


Milk and Caffeine

by theyaskedmeto



Series: Milk and Caffeine [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Inspired by Poetry, Klaine, M/M, Pining, blaine being a sulky adorable puppy, sadly quinn is straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 50,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26252602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyaskedmeto/pseuds/theyaskedmeto
Summary: All Blaine Anderson wants is someone he can make pancakes for. Also, a coffee shop of his own - that too.A coffeeshop AU where poetry dictates what will happen each chapter because the dark academic in me decided to make an entrance...
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Mike Chang/Tina Cohen-Chang, Quinn Fabray/Original Male Character(s), Rachel Berry/Jesse St. James
Series: Milk and Caffeine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131170
Comments: 117
Kudos: 91





	1. A Christmas Poem by Wendy Cope

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my new au!
> 
> firstly, before I say anything else, just a big old thank you to blurglesmurfklaine on ao3 (aka aly) for helping me plan and coming up with a few more ideas for this story. This idea has been sitting in my mind for a little while and I can't wait to finally share it with you lot!!
> 
> most of the poems are wendy copes, and I do not claim any of her work!! full credit to her for writing amazing poetry.
> 
> hope you enjoy!!

****

**A Christmas Poem by Wendy Cope**

_At Christmas little children sing and merry bells jingle,_

_The cold winter air makes our hands and faces tingle_

_And happy families go to church and cheerily they mingle_

_And the whole business is unbelievably dreadful,_

_if you're single._

_*_

An espresso. 

Simple, strong, full-flavoured. 

Powerful. 

That’s order one, thankfully the easiest of the lot. Blaine’s grateful that Rachel has taken the large group of high school girls’ orders because _of course,_ they’ve all had to order cinnamon and spice frappuccinos with extra cream, and there are seven of them, and Blaine doesn’t think that after the day he’s had he can handle all of that. 

First of all, it’s a Thursday, and Blaine _hates_ Thursdays, it’s just like someone invented them so Friday comes even slower, mocks you in its wake. It started out okay, though - he went to his first class, which was fine. Chatted with a boy named Sam who sits next to him sometimes - he’s always got interesting little things to say, such as ‘Dude, doesn’t it just like, blow your mind that flies are so tiny and they can still fit like, all their digestive systems in there and stuff?’ and ‘did you know dolphins are the only other animal apart from humans that actually enjoy sex?’ which puts a lighter mood on his hour-long lecture with Professor Smith on Food Studies and how GM crops are modifying the way we eat today (which normally completely _drags)_. 

This changed, however, when his awful business studies teacher (who is completely biased) sent his essay back with only a C when he thought it was worth at least a B and checked it over hundreds of times. After that, he realised he left his uniform for work (he normally changes into it before he leaves his last class) at home, meaning he had to get the subway back to pick it up, then the subway was delayed, making him arrive at work nearly half an hour later than normal and already exhausted. 

So yeah, Rachel really does owe him one this time. 

Next order is for an old man with very curly grey hair: A gingerbread hot chocolate. This one is pretty easy to make - only a few simple steps - pour the milk into the milk jug, mix with some gingerbread hot chocolate powder, steam until hot. 

It’s a craft, you see, making coffee. To be a good barista it really does take years of practice. 

It’s even more important now, Blaine thinks, to make a good coffee, because it’s only four days until Christmas and basically the whole adult population of New York is stressed, if not the whole world. He’s seen people hurrying into subways and up and down SoHo searching for the perfect gifts, making last-minute plans through their phones to their loved ones. And then, after hours of searching for the best presents and treats, they give up, collapsing into coffee shops for the warm, welcoming hug of a hot beverage and a muffin, a reassurance that even though they didn’t get that one of a kind vintage handmade artisan soap for Aunt Justine, everything will be okay in the end. And they hide from the snow falling relentlessly outside, unwrapping their scarves and large woollen coats and draping them carelessly all over the furniture. 

Okay, so maybe it’s not that dramatic because _Janice’s Coffee_ (so-called because Mr Lamouri, the owner, is a big _friends_ fan) isn’t very crowded at all, hidden around the corner to a local Starbucks - meaning they’re constantly battling for customers (and Starbucks usually wins). However, Blaine thinks it’s still important to make a good coffee because there’s no such drink as comforting as one, and every customer (including the rude ones) deserves a good cup of coffee in this cold. 

It’s also important because the stress of Christmas means more picky, angry customers, and Blaine is stressed himself - it’s not like he wants to work four days before Christmas, but he needs the extra cash; he’s spent so much on Christmas presents already and he’s saving for a cafe himself. 

He works without even thinking, works until his brain is almost in autopilot, making the coffee like he’s done for years. 

Too many years. 

_“Blaine!”_

He’s still focused on the cappuccino he’s making when Rachel is calling his name, nearly spills the whole drink as he jumps at her sudden explosion at him and frets that he’ll have to start again, but sighs in relief when the liquid stays in the mug, turns to her, says, “Jeez Rachel you didn’t have to shout at me like that-”

Rachel’s face scrunches up quickly after he speaks, “Well I did because you were daydreaming _again,_ and I’m not willing to receive a whole load more bitchy customer reviews just because you can’t keep up with the orders!” 

“I wasn’t- look. I wasn’t daydreaming, I was _focused.”_

“You know I can’t handle this alone, Blaine, I will not allow you to get _me_ into trouble with Mr Lamouri again for things that _I_ did not do!” 

“Okay, now that’s unfair,” Blaine starts, because _god,_ Rachel really could be annoying sometimes, just as she does one good thing for you she has to make your life a little harder after, and he does like her, considers her a friend even, but when she _knows_ he’s already having a bad day, times like these really can suck. “Because that was _one_ time, Rachel, and that guy was _cute_ , okay? _And_ you said you wouldn’t mention him again!”

 _Oh_ , Nathaniel. Honestly, one of the hottest guys Blaine has ever seen. He had dark hair and multiple piercings, all big baggy shirts and combat boots - not usually Blaine’s type, but nevertheless - and walked into the cafe with such nonchalance Blaine had trouble breathing; he nearly spilt the whole bottle of caramel syrup on the floor as he was topping off a milkshake with it, kept on pouring it as he lost focus on the drink and just couldn’t stop _staring_ at the man. The first time he saw him he felt a little inadequate in his uniform - a berry pink polo tucked into itchy black trousers - thought _oh god I should’ve added more gel this morning_ —

Nathaniel did end up offering that they meet for lunch ‘somewhere nice’ after they bonded over the fact that you should _never, ever_ put sugar in your coffee because it just means that you’re not actually enjoying the flavour. 

However, it turned out there was a miscommunication because Nathaniel was actually straight and Blaine was mistaken for thinking anything of their ‘ _two dudes hanging out and eating ice cream at central park’_ because obviously, that’s something that two friends do together nowadays. Blaine hasn’t really known what to think of it since, because Nathaniel really did give off a sort of bi vibe with the shirts and corduroy, and last time he checked that lunch ‘date’ didn’t really seem like a platonic thing to do, but then again maybe he’s exaggerating - it’s been a long time since he’s been on a date with _anyone—_

“Still not an excuse to slack on your work, Blaine!” Rachel reasons, “I see _hundreds_ of cute guys come in here all the time and I never do anything about it!” 

Blaine tilts his head to the side, “Two things, Rach - number one, that is definitely a lie because no one even knows about _Janice’s_ because it’s literally hidden. Two, how is that working out for you?” 

“Blaine!” Rachel scoffs, “I’ll have you know my dating life is perfectly under control. Last week I met a guy—” 

Rachel is cut off by the bell of the little coffee shop ringing, a signal that a new customer has entered. Blaine looks up and smiles when he sees Quinn, ignoring Rachel’s exasperated sigh when she sees her too. They have never got on. 

Rachel aside, Quinn has been his best friend for as long as he can remember. With their parents being friends - met at church when they first moved to Philadelphia - they probably know each other better than anyone else knows them. They went to college together - Blaine to study culinary arts and Quinn to study English. Things with them just _work,_ and Blaine’s happy that he knows he always has a friend like Quinn to rely on.

Today, though, Quinn’s got a sly, excited look on her face, the sort of expression she uses when she’s withholding information. She still walks into the cafe the way she always does, though, big winter coat and bobble hat, scanning the selection of cakes. Blaine frowns slightly when he notices the mascara stains on her cheeks and her eyes slightly red-rimmed, wonders momentarily if she’s alright, hopes nothing bad has happened with her boyfriend, Luke, because _god_ if he has done anything shitty he will punch him. But then Quinn starts speaking, voice wobbling a bit. 

“Are those brownies gluten-free?” She asks, and Blaine nearly laughs at how emotional she sounds, because he’s never heard someone get so teary over a gluten-free brownie. But then she points as the cabinet containing all the sweet treats, and Blaine nearly _screams_ when he notices it. 

A diamond ring, round and shining proudly on her left-hand ring finger.

“ _Quinn—_ oh my fucking— what the _fuck?_ ” Blaine marvels, speechless at the silver jewel on her finger, not even caring about the other customers sitting around the cafe. Quinn looks up, smiling and she can hardly hide it, that big grin on her face as Blaine starts, “You’re—”

“I’m engaged!” She squeals, holding her left hand up, and Blaine understands her tear-stained cheeks now because _of course,_ Quinn would cry when someone asked to marry her - that’s like, a normal thing to do. Not forgetting the part that Quinn can be overly emotional when she wants to. 

“Shut up!” Blaine cries, then runs around the counter to hug her, “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you!” he laughs, swaying her from side to side as she laughs. 

“I know, it’s a Christmas miracle!” Quinns says into his shoulder, pulls back again after a while, overly happy and a little scary, the way she’s saying everything like the world is just _so_ perfect. 

Blaine’s gaping at her, hardly knows what to _say—_ “How did it happen?”

“Well, Luke took me to Central Park a few hours ago, because I didn’t have any classes on today, and it was like, really simple… just got down on one knee and I said yes.” 

And it’s just like that, as Blaine’s staring excitedly at her, there’s a little nudging in the back of his mind, thinking _oh god, I don’t even have a boyfriend_ — 

He’s happy for her, really, he is. But this just _means_ so much - Quinn’s going to be moving out, Blaine’s going to have to find another roommate and _god_ if he has to ask Rachel— 

Quinn’s going to be moving out of their lovely little apartment, she’s going to be moving out and moving into a home with Luke - and of course, that man took her to Central Park to propose, such a sucker for romcoms, he is - going to be starting their life together, and _fuck_ in a few years they’ll be having kids, and Blaine still won’t have gotten his cafe that he’s wanted all his life, a cute little coffee shop that’s welcoming and warm, a safe haven for families and friends and lovers where they can stay and drink their coffees together. 

It really is all he’s ever wanted. 

And here he is, last year of college, Christmas time, and Quinn’s _engaged,_ and he hasn’t even bought that plot up for sale yet - the one he’s been eyeing ever since he’s moved to New York, just a few blocks down from where he lives - he still has a whole lot of money to save. 

Now Quinn’s going to go back to her family for Christmas with her new fiance, celebrating kindness and present-giving and _love,_ and Blaine hasn’t even got himself a boyfriend. 

Life _sucks._

Okay, that’s an overstatement, for sure. His best friend has just got engaged! Blaine is happy for her. He’s happy for her, right? Really, he is. Everything is fine. 

“Well, Quinn, my day was going shitty but you’ve made it a little better. Come here!” Blaine says eventually, and he really means it, pulling Quinn into another hug before asking if she does actually want a brownie. 

“Oh Blaine I would love to, it’s just... “ Quinn starts, hesitates slightly, “Luke said he was going to take me out for dinner. I need to get ready so…” She gestures to her face, and half of Blaine isn’t really sure if she knows about the mascara cascading down it, “but I’ll meet you back home after, okay?”

“Uh— I mean, yes.” Blaine hesitates. “Go get your fiancé! Love you!”

“Love you too!” 

And she’s already out of the door, skipping away to meet her date. 

Blaine wishes he could have something like that - of course, his life isn’t all bad; he’s got the job at _Janice’s_ and he’s nearly got a degree in culinary studies, but it would be so nice to have something more. What he’s trying to say is: he wants a boyfriend. Wants to come home after a long day to the love of his life cooking him carbonara, or lie down on the couch with him and watch West Side Story, or make pancakes for him in the morning with extra blueberries or whatever his mystery man prefers. And then during Christmas, they can just stay at home and open presents together, stay up till the early hours of the morning, dance to Christmas songs lit by candlelight, move to bed...

He sighs, whirls around to face Rachel, who’s leaning against the counter on her elbows, propping her head up, a sour look on her face. Blaine does feel a little happier when he thinks Rachel is feeling sorry for his lack of movement and progression in… well… _life,_ but is taken aback when she speaks.

“Did you notice how she didn’t even glance in my direction? I mean what is up with her?”

He glares at her, says, “My best friend just got engaged and _this_ is what you’re annoyed about?” 

“It’s not _my_ fault she’s so horrible.” 

Blaine just stares at her, because does she not even _see_ his struggles here? “My best friend just got engaged and I’m still working at Janice’s, where I have worked for three years. Do you think _I’m_ feeling good about today? And it’s Christmas, and I don’t even have a boyfriend and I’m lonely and sad.” 

Then Rachel realises, eyes widening, walking towards him with arms open like she’s going to hug him, but Blaine moves back further. He’s experienced way too much sentiment for one day. 

Rachel may be a little inconsiderate at times, but she does know how to comfort someone when they need it. Obviously, she’s not a psychopath. She is actually okay to work with sometimes. 

“Honey.” She says, “We’re in the same boat!” and it looks like she doesn’t really know what to do with her hands because it’s so obvious she wants to comfort him, so just pats his shoulder awkwardly. “I don’t want to work here all my life, you _know_ my heart is destined for Broadway.” 

Blaine chuckles a little, jokes, “You have mentioned that a couple of times, yes.” 

“And anyway, it’s Christmas! We don’t need men to make us happy. I, for one, am going to go home to my dads and we’re all going to sing carols together. Then we’re going to have our traditional vegan Christmas dinner menu, which I like to prepare myself. My dads normally try and get involved but I just won’t let them. Then we like to watch Barbara Streisand’s _Funny Girl_ at least twice. It’s always the perfect Christmas!” 

“Sounds more like a sleepover…” 

Rachel gives him a look. “Stop being so down in the dumps. Maybe you’ll find your perfect man when you go back home?” 

“I find that highly unlikely.” Blaine sighs. “Anyway, I guess seeing my Mom will do me some good.”

“I’m sure it will.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
When Blaine finally escapes the day and gets home to his shared apartment with Quinn and his other friend Tina he met at college, he has an urgent need to collapse on the sofa but decides he should probably start packing for going to his Mom’s in two days. 

Quinn’s not home - Blaine assumes she’s already gone out to meet Luke, tries not to think about it too much. He’s still a little jealous.

He moves to his tiny room - there’s hardly space for a bed in there at all, but he’s managed to fit it in nonetheless, along with a bedside table and a set of drawers built into the walls already. It’s not the best, but it’s better than Tina’s bedroom which also happens to be the living room - the bed in the corner and a divider between. It’s why Tina usually hangs out in Blaine’s room because it’s the most private of all of them with a door and everything. 

Blaine doesn’t even frown when he walks into his room to see Tina lying sideways on his bed reading on her kindle - it’s just so normal and always has been. What he does frown at though, is that she’s wearing her fluffy, oversized grey onesie, hood up, the one that she only wears when she’s feeling shitty. Whenever you see her in it, it’s like a sign, a little signal that either she needs space or cheering up, especially when the hood is up. As Blaine gets closer, she can see tears running down her cheeks, and instantly worries. He drops his bag on the floor and toes his shoes off, sitting down on the side of the bed and puts a hand on her arm. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He pouts, moving his hand up and down her arm after she breaks out into louder sobs. 

She cries even louder now, “Quinn’s engaged and I’m not.” she says, and Blaine has to stifle his sigh of relief because now he knows he has someone to feel the same way with, hurts for her because he knows completely how she feels at the exact same moment. He also has to laugh a little, not that Tina hears, because only Tina would break down at the thought of one of her friends getting married. 

“Oh my god,” He laughs, and Tina turns to look up at him, a little glare on her face, almost looks comical with the way she’s crying, but Blaine’s just so _relieved_ that he’s not alone on this one, “she just told me, too. I feel exactly the same.” 

Before he’s even aware, Tina’s pulling him into her arms, giggling through sobs, “Jesus, we really are so pathetic aren’t we?” she mumbles, “I mean like, I’m happy for her and everything but—”

“It’s not like you don’t even have a boyfriend,” Blaine reasons before Tina can even justify her jealousy any more, “You have Mike.”

“Well, yes, but we’ve only been together for eight months—”

“But you get to spend Christmas with him. I’m just alone.” 

“Oh, Blaine.” Tina sighs, stroking his back up and down comfortingly, “Bad day?” 

“The worst.” Blaine sulks, hesitates slightly, “I mean, not the worst, because Quinn did just get engaged and I’m so happy for her, but I just—”

“Blaine, I get it. It’s Christmas, everyone is celebrating, you want a boyfriend. It’s normal.” 

“I know it’s normal, just… _ugh_.”

Tina chuckles, pats Blaine’s gelled head, cringes at the feel of all that product clinging to his curls, not that Blaine notices. She wishes she could make him better, but sometimes things just _suck._ And sometimes you just have to wallow in self-pity for a while before you do anything else to help yourself. Her thoughts fade into nothing for a while, wonders how she can be a good friend when an idea pops into her mind. 

“I could make you mac and cheese?” 

Blaine pulls out of her embrace at that, eyes a little watery, “You would do that? For me?” 

“Of course! It’s not like Quinn’s coming home tonight.” Tina hints, wiggling her eyebrows, “Now get your ass off of this bed and help me get the ingredients together.”

  
  


*

  
  


Finally Saturday and feeling a little better about Quinn’s engagement, the jealousy turning more into envy and mainly just feeling happy for her anyway, Blaine finds himself on a train back to his mother’s home in Philadelphia, the same home he also grew up in. 

He loves his mom, he really does. She’s never been anything but loving to him, too. Blaine knows that seeing her will definitely make him feel much better; they normally try to keep in touch and Skype now and then, but recently it’s been hard with Christmas and Blaine working extra shifts at _Janice’s_ so he can keep saving for his cafe. He’s missed her, and he’s missed Annabel, his mother’s dog - a beautiful chocolate-coloured Labrador, full name Annabel Lee - named after the poem by Edgar Allen Poe, chosen by his grandmother as it’s always been one of her favourites; she used to read it to him when he was little, all tucked up in bed. 

Blaine smiles at the thought, mind carelessly wandering away from the book in his lap but to memories of his childhood, growing up with her and his mother and only them. He’s never truly known his dad - left when he was 6 months old - but the way his mother speaks of him he doesn’t really mind all too much. Sometimes he does wonder what it would’ve been like, but he’s perfectly happy with the childhood he had; his mom and grandmother did _so_ much to raise him, and he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. 

God, he’s going to be happy to be home… 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a lil note that i'll be posting this as I write, so keep your eyes peeled :)


	2. "Although the wind..." by Izumi Shikibi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep a look out for me talking a little bit about the poem a little and how it links to the story at the end of each chapter! (this will start now as the first poem was pretty obvious...)

**“Although the wind…” by Izumi Shikibi, translated by Jane Hirshfield**

_ Although the wind _

_ blows terribly here, _

_ the moonlight also leaks _

_ between the roof planks _

_ of this ruined house. _

  
  


*

When Blaine arrives back at home in Philadelphia - Chesnut Hill to be precise; a suburb on the outskirts of Philadelphia, full of greenery and big houses and floral gardens - it’s already dark, and the clouds from the cold winter’s day are covering the sky. He can see the air as he breathes, puffing up then fading out into the atmosphere.

He has to walk a little further down the road from where his Lyft dropped him off, so he wraps his coat further around him to keep warm with his suitcase and multiple tote bags full of presents trailing in his hand behind him. 

Soon, he’s standing outside, and there’s a sense of relief in his heart.  _ Finally,  _ he’s home. 

Walking up to the front porch, he knocks on the door and instantly hears the barking of one excited (but now a little old) chocolate Labrador. He smiles, and before he knows it the door is open and Annabel is bounding up at him, barking happily. 

“Hey, Annie!” Blaine laughs, crouching down and greeting the dog, patting her on her side before getting up and hugging his mom. 

It’s like he can feel her mom’s joy, her happiness that her son is finally home once more, arms wrapped tightly around him, and Blaine’s nearly having trouble  _ breathing _ because she’s squeezing so hard. 

“My love,” She gushes, “my beautiful boy is home.” 

“Hi, Mom.”

Alexandra squeezes just a little tighter for a moment before letting go, says, “Come in, honey! Come see the Christmas decorations.” 

Blaine enters, Annabel following closely behind. For a six-year-old dog, she’s still full of beans, happy and excitable. 

He follows through the main hallway to the living room slash kitchen area, gasps a little when he sees the giant Christmas tree in the corner of the room, and smiles when he sees his grandmother sitting on the sofa next to it, drinking a cup of tea and looking back at him knowingly.

“This is amazing,” Blaine breathes, eyes fixed on the twinkling lights on the tree, “You did all this?” he says, turning to his mom who’s leaning against the kitchen island.

“I directed.” Jane, Blaine’s grandmother speaks up, thick Filipino accent peeking through her words. “Your mother is useless at decorating.” 

“Mom!” Alexandra scolds, and Blaine laughs. His grandmother has always been like this - little one-liners when you would least expect it. 

“What? I’m too old to help so I boss you about instead!” She argues, then her tone softens as she addresses Blaine, “Now, come here,  _ mahal ko _ . I’ve missed you.” 

Gosh- his heart just feels so  _ warm,  _ back at home finally after the stress and bustle of New York. He loves it there, he does - but nothing beats coming back home for a little while, so much comfort and friendliness from the company of his family. 

He moves towards his grandmother, sits next to her on the grey sofa, leans over and gives her a small hug. It saddens him slightly, how seemingly fragile she is now than when he was younger; he’s careful when hugging her, doesn’t want to hurt her, but then she comes out with the funniest little sayings like she’s not a day over thirty and it makes her seem young again, so ready for life and all it will continue to throw at her. 

He doesn’t realise his mom is speaking when he pulls back from his grandmother at first - she has to repeat herself for Blaine to hear - but suddenly he hears her words as she says “Did you hear the news about Quinn? Judy told me yesterday and I’m sure Quinn told you too.” 

A grin tugs at Blaine’s lips - it’s a weird feeling, being so happy for someone but whenever another person mentions it he can’t help but feel sorry for yourself. Ignoring the pulling at his chest, he answers, “Yes, she told me yesterday when I was working.” 

“It’s oddly abrupt, don’t you think?”

He hadn’t really thought, to be honest- Quinn had been with Luke for three years now - since they both started college, even - and she seems so happy with him. Blaine’s sure that if he was so in love with someone he would want to marry them straight away. It’s romantic, he thinks, to show all your love for a person and tell them exactly why, and get all dressed up and celebrate it for all to see.

“I think it’s good. I mean, you can see they’re in love…” he trails off. 

His grandmother speaks up again, “I say take life by the reins. If you love a man, you can always divorce him again. It’s what I did with my first husband.” 

They talk aimlessly while Alexandra prepares dinner, Annabel coming to sit up next to Blaine, nestling against him, trying to remember him after what must feel like  _ so  _ long for her - he hasn’t visited his mother in a good two months, and in dog time that must be even longer. 

They converse further over dinner, and despite the lack of a boyfriend in his life, Blaine finds himself a little more excited for Christmas - excited for the joy and, of course, the  _ presents - _ like he’s reliving a memory of every year he’s known his family, the same traditions over and over again, the one’s he’s grown so fond of since he was a little boy; so wide-eyed and excited for what the rest of life would throw at him, no worries in the world - only big dreams involving cafes and love and making things for others. 

Blaine only realises he’s daydreaming when his mother is asking his name once more, realises he’s been doing a lot of that recently. 

“Sorry? What did you say?” He queries, blinking a bit when he notices that he’s been staring at the salt shaker for a solid three minutes, taking a sip of his wine. 

Alexandra waves her fork around slightly, “I said how this dinner would be even better if you had a boyfriend to bring home!”

Blaine wants to spit out his drink. 

Obviously, his mother does mean well - he knows that. But this is everything he’s been worrying about for the past two days, ever since the engagement, and oh  _ god _ now his mom is noticing—

He swallows, heart beating slightly faster in his chest as his mom continues eating, his grandmother trying to stifle her laughter over a mouthful of food. Blaine can’t even remember what he was doing, what they were even talking about before, but realises he has to respond. 

“Uh— well. Um, I’m not really— uh… bothered about that right now.” He struggles, hastily picking his knife and fork again to continue eating.

Jane nudges Alexandra obnoxiously, “I’m not sure if he’s enjoying the boyfriend comments.”

Blaine hastily tries to change the subject, “Uhm, so… Mom! What are the plans for tomorrow?” 

“Well, we’ve got ham, obviously, and turkey… Oh! Cooper’s going to skype us - he’s got a new girlfriend, is what he tells me.”

“Oh. Well, that’s… good for him.” 

It’s been nearly a year since Blaine’s seen his half-brother; he’s always keeping busy in LA staring as the main character in some daytime TV soap Blaine’s not fully familiar with. It’s not like they don’t get on or anything, but it’s just that he’s only known him for three years, only reconnected with him because they have the same dad, not that either of them speaks to him, and Cooper is ever so busy, and Blaine has kept on working hard for his cafe and… life justs gets in the way sometimes. 

He doesn’t have a problem with it - their lack of communication. It is nice to see him again when the times come around, but it’s almost as if Cooper’s off in his own world most of the time, dreaming up new worlds and characters, like all of his life experiences come back to his work, ways to apply new emotions to the people he plays. 

It’s probably a really good skill - like method acting but a little less obvious, just taking these tips from his day to day life - but it also makes him seem a little arrogant if Blaine must say.

When he goes to bed that night, he thinks about that plot down the street that is honestly  _ begging _ to be turned into a cafe. He’s never really decided on a name, has only really got as far as 'Cafe Blaine' which he thinks is a little bland. His mind is buzzing with festive excitement and he can hardly stop  _ thinking. _ He trails through new ideas, then realises if he had a boyfriend, he could name it after them. Then he wonders if that’s a little too much, then thinks about what his future boyfriend might be called. Oh god, is he getting too obsessed over this? 

Ebony. Maybe his boyfriend will have a fancy sort of name? Ebony or Allistar or…. Leopold? 

Oh god, he’s getting  _ way  _ too obsessed with this. 

But…  _ Ebony’s cafe _ . Fuck, that sounds so nice in his head. Then he thinks maybe that sounds a bit too much like Janice’s Coffee, and maybe he should just take the leap and buy that damn plot because everything about Janice’s just fills his head twenty-four seven.

He can’t buy the plot. He needs to stay at Janice’s before he does anything crazy amid some sort of weird mid-life crisis hysteria. 

Maybe melodrama is something he’s prone to at times like this. 

With that, he turns on his side and switches out the light, forces himself asleep for the Christmas festivities to come the next morning.

  
  


*

Christmas is good, to say the least. When Blaine comes downstairs bright and early, brain still in tune with his usual busy New York schedule, his mom is already frying some eggs, one sunny side up for Blaine and sunny side down for herself, not making anything for Blaine’s grandmother yet as she isn’t awake. He smiles at her gentle singing as she prepares breakfast, a thing she’s always done and is so comforting to Blaine.

He moves up beside her, rests his head on her shoulder and murmurs a ‘Merry Christmas’ groggily, lips tugging a little as she kisses his head, wishing him a Merry Christmas back. 

When his grandmother finally appears many hours later, they open presents and Blaine gets three new bowties, one with yellow and green stripes, one with Christmas trees (which, he will have to be honest to himself, he won’t be wearing very much), and one with small little dots - a pale lilac and white.

His mother is very happy with her new Airfryer, and Blaine could almost collapse to the floor with relief because he lost the receipt on his way home from a large round of Christmas shopping and the shop he bought it from is incredibly strict with their return policy.

His grandmother receives a scrapbook of all their family photos since Blaine was young, and she tries to hide her tears through little loving comments, saying things like “Oh,  _ mahal ko,  _ aren’t you so tiny there!”

They eat their Christmas dinner and Skype Cooper at the same time, and Cooper starts nattering on happily about the new love interest on the show that he’s currently involved with in real life too, and everyone has to nod along like they half-understand what he’s talking about when he starts going on about Ad-Libs and Foreground Crosses and Honeywagons - acting lingo that Blaine’s grandmother especially doesn’t understand. 

Blaine collapses into his bed that night and is out like a light, Annabel Lee coming to lie with him somewhere through the middle of his slumber, probably very tired out too.

Overall, it’s a very jolly Christmas, and Blaine hardly worries about his life one bit. Sometimes, a little time with your family is all you need.

  
  
  


*

  
  
Boxing day and Alexandra has driven Blaine to the station, having already said his goodbyes to his grandmother and of course, Annie. There’s a comfortable silence in the car as they drive there, neither of them searching for things to say to fill the silent gap. Blaine knows its hard on his mom having to leave him once more, but he always reassures her that he’s only an hour and a bit away, and she can always come to visit when she needs to. 

They finally make it to their destination, and Blaine suddenly feels reluctant to get out the car. He looks to his mom, who’s looking back at him, a sad smile on her face. 

“My beautiful boy,” she gushes, reaches up and presses her hands to Blaine’s cheeks, squishing them together slightly to his dismay, “I will miss you very much.” and leans over the centre console to hug him, smiling softly. “Just remember that I will love you whether or not you have someone to love,” she reassures him, “you will always be my son, and I am very proud of you.”

Unsure what to say and slightly taken aback by her words, Blaine rubs her back, breathes in a little, then pulls back, opening the car door, “I love you too.” he smiles, then walks back to get his belongings from the boot. When he’s gotten hold of all of them, he moves back round to the door and leans down, “See you soon.” and smiles, shuts it, hears his mom repeat the words.

“See you soon,  _ mahal ko _ .” 

  
  


*

The rest of the days after Christmas pass by Blaine so quickly he doesn’t even have time to blink. On New Year’s Day - Wednesday - his mind is clouded with very drunken memories of the night before - going out with Quinn and Luke and Tina and Mike - and somewhere in the middle of it all he half remembers trying to flirt with the barman, and being royally rejected. 

Honestly, he doesn’t even  _ want  _ to remember. He just wants to get on with his day at Janice’s and work through it, try and ignore Rachel’s antics and avoid angry customers. 

It doesn’t help though, that when he first arrives, hardly even nine AM - he has a full day of work today as he doesn’t go back to college until tomorrow, as he volunteered to fill someone else’s shift - Mr Lamouri is in the kitchen singing rather loudly along to some Italian song that he’s not familiar with. Rachel is late - which is rather unusual, to say the least, and he just thinks,  _ it’s gonna be one of those days. _

The rush for morning coffees has already started, so Blaine gets to taking orders straight away, working through a long list of various types of coffees for different customers, Mr Lamouri helping him. The scent of coffee does  _ not _ help his hangover - his head feels like his brain is bashing against his skull, and he wishes it would be appropriate to bring sunglasses to work to try and block out all the bold colours of the cafe. 

Janice’s main colour scheme is pink - all different shades but mainly a warm berry sort of colour, and a logo with a cut out of Janice from  _ Friends, _ with ‘Janice’s coffee’ above it. It’s all very vibrant - Blaine thinks Mr Lamouri did go all out with his  _ Friends _ obsession for the design of the cafe, obviously trying to recreate the likings of  _ Central Perk _ where all the six friends usually hang out together. Still, Blaine normally appreciates the decor in the little coffee shop, just not today when he’s pushing through a raging hangover. 

“Rough night, I see.” Mr Lamouri observes, and Blaine looks at him, trying so hard to smile and laugh it off, but hardly has the energy. Instead, he just grumbles, goes back to making coffee.

Blaine knows Mr Lamouri won’t mind his bad mood - he’s been working at the cafe for three years now, ever since he moved to New York - and though he doesn’t know his boss as well as Rachel (who’s worked at Janice’s for only a year), he’s grown to act more freely around him, less rigid than he did the first few months of working there. 

Mr Lamouri is a well rounded but slightly snappy man, Italian, dark hair with a friendly face. Blaine was so scared of him when he first started working at Janice’s, but now realises he’s normally only playing with Blaine, taking the mick out of his incredibly gelled hair or enthusiastically coloured bowties which usually clash with the uniform. At first glance, you wouldn’t think of him to be the sort of person who opens a pink-coloured _ Friends _ themed coffee shop, but then Blaine supposes you can never judge someone  _ fully _ from first impressions. 

There are obvious moments when Mr Lamouri tries to get a little closer with Blaine -  _ ‘Honestly, kid, just call me Marco,’  _ or  _ ‘You want to join us at the Nicks Game?’ -  _ but for Blaine, even calling Mr Lamouri by his first name is weird, and having a little mystery around the man makes things a little more professional, even though his presence is still consoling to him. Something of a father figure, he thinks.

Rachel finally shows up an hour after she’s due, and Blaine can’t help but frown at her as she unwraps her fuzzy, plaid scarf from her neck and undoes her red dress-style coat to reveal the  _ Janice’s Coffee _ uniform - pink polo shirt with the logo on the chest and a black pencil skirt with tights - he wonders if she even knows she’s late when he notices the happy smile on her face. 

“Good Morning Mr Lamouri,” She sing-songs, moving around the back to the cleaning closet to hang up her coat, not even glancing at his stunned face, obviously confused at her lack of punctuality; such a non-Rachel thing to do.

“Ay, Rachel! What time do you call this?” he calls when she comes back around the to the counter. “You’re late by an hour!”

“What?” Rachel shrieks and a few faces look up from their phones where a queue has begun to form, and Blaine starts taking their orders once more, trying to ignore the ringing in his head from Rachel’s sudden uproar, hearing her natter on about clocks being wrong and beauty sleep.

He works through a few people, tries not to shout at the angry lady with three kids who want to speak to the manager when Blaine tells her they don’t actually put marshmallows and cream on their hot chocolates -  _ ‘But that’s what my kids all wanted!’  _ \- and sighs in relief when she storms out the cafe in a huff. So he really has failed with his two goals for today, because he’s listened to Rachel’s antics  _ and  _ had to deal with an angry customer. 

Another bad day at Janice’s.

Okay, he mostly blames it on the hangover, because sometimes listening to Rachel’s outbursts actually makes his day a little better - the things that come out her mouth sometimes are absolutely crazy; sometimes he can’t believe that there actually are people like this in the world, not even counting the fact that he actually knows one of them - and he does find the angry customers a little ridiculous, even if they do treat him like utter shit. 

Once Mr Lamouri has calmed down, Rachel starts working, cleaning up a few of the used tables from where the morning rush has now calmed down. Ten-thirty until twelve is mostly pretty quiet, apart from the hurried customer here and there. Blaine chats with her for a while, rolling her eyes as her half listens to her (for the sake of his headache) as she talks about how “this bitch at NYADA just completely stole my solo, Blaine, I mean come on, in high school glee club, it wasn’t like this!” and groaning on about midterm assignments and how badly she needs to pass otherwise Carmen Tibbedeaux will take away their opportunity to continue studying at her school, and Blaine thinks about how he would never be able to survive that. 

Blaine’s halfway through a frappuccino for a young woman who’s just entered, just adding everything to the blender when he feels Rachel nudging his arm, and he ignores her just whilst he finishes off this order, kicking her ankle to tell her to stop. When he gets to icing the cream, Rachel’s still trying to talk to him but he blocks her out - there’s no way he’ll create the perfect swirl if she’s talking his ear off like this. 

Finally, he calls out the woman’s name - Janette - and hands it to her with a smile, then turns to Rachel.

“What?” He asks, exasperatedly. 

Rachel murmurs not so discreetly, “There is a man over there who I just served reading  _ Vogue _ … completely your type.” she says, pointing over to a slender looking guy with neatly coiffed hair sitting side-on from the big window, flipping through his magazine. “And he’s nothing like that weird emo Nathaniel guy you were swooning over last—”

“Okay! Rachel! You can be quiet now,” Blaine stops her, and oh  _ wow, _ that is one good looking man. 

He examines his shoulders and the way his tight dress shirt clings to his biceps, accentuating them just right, trailing down to thin fingers which hold his copy of  _ Vogue _ in place in front of him. Blaine’s eyes move up to his face - thankfully he’s facing the right way so Blaine can take a better look at him - and notices his fair face, a small nose and eyelashes fanning over his cheeks as he reads, takes a sip of his - is that a chai tea? Probably is - and flips over onto the next page. 

“Blaine, talk to him!” 

“What— no! I’m not gonna disturb him,” Blaine says, glancing to her and looking back at the man again, voice slightly more hushed than Rachel’s incredibly loud one, a signal for her to be quieter too - there are only a few other people in the coffee shop and apart from the music sounding through it quietly, there isn’t much noise. “He looks so… engrossed in his magazine. I’m not gonna do that to him.”

He can hardly take his eyes off the man, so Rachel spins him around, puts her hands on her hips and gives him the  _ look. _ The one she gives him to say ‘I am very disappointed in you right now’ like she’s his mom or something. 

“Either you do this or I do, and it would just be so unprofessional for me to do it.” She says matter-of-factly, voice raised higher than usual. 

Blaine stops her before it’s too late, “No, stay here. Neither of us is going to talk to him. Look, there’s someone just coming in, serve him instead.” 

Rachel sulks for a moment, perfect posture sagging just for a second as she grimaces at him, points at him, “Fine. But we are talking about this later, Blaine.” 

Relieved, Blaine lets out a short sigh and gets back to work, going to restock all the cakes that were on display, already dreaming up married life fantasies with the Vogue Guy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this poem because the imagery is just beautiful, and the way it just describes that whole 'clouds with silver lining' type vibe. This chapter was focusing on Blaine feeling a little bit better after his shitty day, that even though he can be hurt and bruised, things can still be fixed and there are still people there to comfort him. <33


	3. The Moment I Saw You by Charles Wiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woooo okay here's a long chapter for you lot!!! get ready for blaine being a nervous trainwreck and I hope you enjoy!!

**The Moment I Saw You by Charles Wiles**

_The moment I saw you_

_I could barely contain_

_All the butterflies jumping_

_It's hard to explain._

_My coolest persona_

_Just melted away_

_And my words came out jumbled_

_I forgot what to say._

_I felt rather foolish_

_And thought you would leave_

_But the smile you then gave me_

_I still can't believe._

_The first time I saw you_

_You blew me away_

_But your smile still disarms me_

_When I see you each day._

  
  


*

  
  


When Blaine gets home that evening, his hangover is still present - he doesn’t have the power to make hangovers disappear straight after getting them - but he does feel so much _lighter_. 

He drops his keys in the little bowl by the door and hangs his coat on the coat rack, toeing off his shoes and walking into the kitchen. 

Tina isn’t home - she texted him that she was going back to Mike’s for the evening, and he hasn’t seen any sign of Quinn yet so just guesses she’s with Luke - not that she’s officially moved out yet - that’s happening over the weekend.

He makes himself some coffee despite the fact it’s nearly ten PM, still shivering from the cold outside, dreams and fantasies of the special Vogue Guy floating around in his head. He feels like he could dance around the room, imagining a life with him, slow dancing at Christmas, making carbonara…

Okay, _oh god._ You really need to stop. You didn’t even talk to him— 

It’s just that everything feels absolutely amazing and no hot guys ever come into Janice’s, and on the off times it does happen Blaine feels like he can’t hold himself back, it’s just—

The way he sat. He looked so gracious and calm, even on a busy Wednesday morning he was happily enjoying his tea, looking so smart reading about women’s fashion, and oh _fuck_ his sleeves, clinging tightly around his strong arms, Blaine can’t even _think straight_ and _shit,_ what if he never comes back again?

So he’s just lost another opportunity for a perfect boyfriend to run away to the English Countryside with. Damn. 

“You seem happy.” 

Blaine jumps around from making his hot chocolate, sighs when he sees Quinn standing there all of a sudden.

“Oh, Quinn,” Blaine smiles hastily, putting a hand to his chest as if he’s trying to calm his speeding heartbeat, thumping heavily from the sudden jump of Quinn’s voice, “I didn’t realise you were home.”

“Well, I’m here,” she says, walking up next to him where he’s boiling the kettle, “Which boy has gotten you so dancing-around-the-room-ish?” 

Blaine tries to frown, tries to act confused, “Uh— what? What are you—”

“Don’t try and do that thing.” Quinn interrupts.

“What— what _thing?”_

“You know, the thing! You try and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” 

“But I—”

“Is it that boy from your food class?” Quinn asks, already prodding him for answers, inspecting him. It’s something she likes to do when Blaine’s acting weird, one of her less endearing qualities, but then he also knows she’s only doing it for his safety. They’re like siblings at this point - Blaine and Quinn - they’ve gone through everything together - Blaine’s coming out, Quinn’s weird skank phase, college… and they’re still here, battling through it all. Which is probably why it hurts Blaine so much to see Quinn getting engaged. 

Blaine’s brow furrows momentarily, trying to think who Quinn is talking about, this time not even pretending to show confusion as it is so present on his face, and then suddenly eyes are widening as he realises: “Wait, you mean Sam?”

“Yes!” Quinn exclaims, “I always knew he was gay.” 

“It’s not Sam, Quinn,” Blaine mumbles, finally turning back to the kettle as the switch pings up, signalling the water is ready, and stirs it into his cup along with the hot chocolate powder, “And anyway, he’s not gay. There’s another guy. From Janice’s.”

Quinn gasps excitedly, “Another guy?”

“Yes, another guy. But I didn’t even talk to him. So now he’s never going to return to Janice’s and I’m going to remain alone.”

Smile lowering into a sorrowful expression, Quinn says, “Is this about my engagement?”

“What?” Blaine’s head jerks up at her once again, “No! This is just— me being stupid.”

He could lie, could argue against her, but Quinn _knows_ him, and somehow, in the back of Blaine’s mind, he knew she was going to find out about his slight tinge of jealousy sometime soon. He knows she knows he’s lying from the slightly raised eyebrow, the hand on her hip, and the way her lips are pulling upwards slightly. 

“Okay, fine. It’s the engagement.” He gives in eventually, shoe-gazing, “It’s just— you know I’m so happy for you and Luke. But I just—” He stops. Re-evaluates continues, “I feel like everyone’s moving on in their lives but me. And this man I saw at the coffee shop today, I just… I felt something.”

Quinn’s looking at him with a sad smile on her face when he looks back up at her, stares, slightly unsure with himself, and she says, “I get it. It’s okay.” and pulls him into a hug, swaying him side to side slightly on his feet, “I was quite over-excited that day.” 

Blaine chuckles, nods a little, pulls back. It’s about his cafe, too; he knows he’s still got a hell of a lot to save up for it, and he just doesn’t know if he’ll ever have enough. This whole dream started so young, and he just doesn’t _know,_ doesn’t understand how something so close can be so hard to actually grab, almost as if it’s slipping further and further away. 

When he moved to New York, he first saw the little run down newsagents on his way to work, only a few weeks after he’d started at Janice’s. There was so much potential there, so many new things to create - could picture the comfy furniture and pale colours in his mind - so cold but emanating so much warmth from inside. The only problem then was that it was still a shop in business, and hadn’t actually been available at the time. Now though, the owners have abandoned it, and every time he passes, it’s just like it’s screaming in his face to be refurbished and _loved,_ but with college tuition taking away a huge chunk of his money, and with rent costing higher than ever, it’s hard to save with so many other financial priorities. 

One day, though. Soon he will have a cafe of his own. 

  
  


*

  
  


Blaine goes to sleep that night thinking of Vogue Guy. 

In his dream there’s he’s there, at Janice’s Coffee once again, but instead of sitting and drinking chai tea by the window, he’s behind the till, looking around the cupboards underneath to find the best type of pasta to make carbonara with. Blaine’s shouting at him whilst he’s doing it, complaining that he should get back to sitting down and reading more of his magazine rather than cooking pasta for him. 

Vogue Guy, who Blaine soon finds out to be called Ebony in the dream, tells Blaine to ‘sit back and relax’ whilst he cooks his ‘boyfriend’ their favourite meal. Slightly surprised at how fast their relationship is moving, Blaine does exactly as he says, and suddenly Janice’s Coffee is turning into his kitchen back at his shared apartment with Quinn and Tina, and instead of the full pinstriped suit and button-up shirt that Ebony used to be wearing, he’s dressed in Tina’s big comfy onesie, hood up.

Ebony adds the pasta to the boiling water in the saucepan that has magically appeared on the stove, “Did you know I won a Nobel prize for making carbonara?” 

Eyebrows raising in surprise, Blaine exclaims, “Oh god, no! I’m so sorry I didn’t know about that before.” 

He’s suddenly filled with a deep feeling of inadequacy, and wraps his arms around himself, watching Ebony cook. 

“Don’t feel inadequate, Blaine.” Ebony speaks again from his spot by the saucepan, “We’re getting married soon, and I can’t have you feeling like this on your wedding day.” 

Blaine nods understandingly. God, that would be so humiliating, and Ebony is the best person he’s ever met; he would never let him down.

Soon, the kitchen is turning into the cleaning cupboard back at Janice’s Coffee. There’s not much room, but somehow the wedding planners have managed to fit at least one hundred and fifty chairs inside, and Blaine is standing at the altar watching Ebony walk down the aisle, which is only a few steps because there’s hardly an aisle at all with the lack of space, and Blaine’s slightly confused how one hundred and fifty chairs have fitted in there but not anything else. 

Just as they’re at the end of each of their vows, the officiant (who happens to be Katy Perry - probably because Blaine was listening to _Teenage Dream_ at home the other day) asks the crowd if anyone has a reason as to why either Blaine or Ebony should object their marriage, and when everyone is silent, Ebony smiles heartily and looks at Blaine, who looks back, although he feels a pang of guilt in the back of his mind and he’s not sure why.

Suddenly, the cupboard door for the entrance to the wedding is opening, and a man runs in, screaming “Wait! Wait for me!” and stops, bending down and putting his hands on his knees, and looks back up when he catches his breath, which is when Blaine realises.

Nathaniel. 

Oh god, not here of all places—

“Blaine, let’s run away together.” He cries, then runs further up to him, grabbing his arms, “I’m the gayest person ever, Blaine. I’m not straight at all!” and laughs like he can’t even believe it, and Blaine is frozen, physically stuck to the floor where he’s standing, momentarily paralysed. 

Ebony starts screeching out of nowhere, “He will never run away with you!” he says, grabbing the collar of Nathaniel’s corduroy jacket, pulling him away from Blaine, who’s still frozen, and Nathaniel is gone in a puff of smoke, nowhere to be found.

Finally, Blaine can move again, and he sighs in relief. It’s just them now, and the wedding has completely vanished, and they’re lying in bed together, Ebony still dressed in Tina’s fluffy onesie. 

“I’m so happy you didn’t run away with that emo guy.” He sighs, turning onto his side to face Blaine, “that would’ve been so awkward.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees, “at least we’re husbands now.”

“Who said we were husbands?” 

Blaine sits up at that and realises that Ebony isn’t sitting beside him at all, and his dream suddenly feels much less dream-like and then comes to terms with the fact that, _no,_ this is real life. He’s snapped out of his dream and Ebony doesn’t exist. 

Oh god, what even _was_ that?

  
  


*

At Janice’s the next day, Blaine feels much better despite the weirdly disorientating dream he slept through the night before. He also doesn’t mind Mr Lamouri’s singing in the kitchen. Instead, he laughs, restocking the fridge by the front door with various types of soft drinks and toasties. It’s amazing how that man can be so full of energy despite it being nearly four PM on a Thursday, and Blaine feels just a little bit more joyful at the sound of the energetic man’s voice, wondering if that’s just how you feel when you own your own cafe. 

He has a good feeling about today.

Rachel arrives on time, thankfully, and starts wiping down the tables, and Blaine can just _sense_ the fact that she wants to join in on Mr Lamouri’s singing as well, but knows it wouldn’t be worthwhile because she doesn’t speak Italian, nor does she know the song. Blaine received a very long lecture once from her about how _“if you don’t know the song, Blaine, don’t join in. It steals the singer’s thunder, and it makes you look jealous and cruel. It’s one of the number one rules at NYADA”_ to which Blaine asked why there were multiple number one rules, still not really understanding the school Rachel goes to at all. 

The sun starts to set at four-thirty, as it has for the past few months, and the lack of light in the sky makes Blaine already feel a little sleepy. Despite that, he polishes the front cabinet where all the cakes are on display - something that hardly happens as no one can be bothered. 

Soon more customers are pouring into the shop, and Blaine gets back behind the till, smiling at the first customer, readily taking his order. 

He sets to work on a latte; preheat the cup, add a double shot of espresso, froth the milk, create decoration on top - settles on a swan today, something he’s been trying to work on for a while and never gets right, but this time it goes according to plan, and Blaine feels like he’s walking on sunshine. 

“Why, look at this happy bunny!” Mr Lamouri chuckles, patting Blaine’s back as he continues working, just starting an espresso shot for an elderly woman called Irene - very cool, she was dressed all in primary colours and thick, blue-rimmed glasses.

Laughing awkwardly, Blaine babbles, “Um— yeah, yes. I’m— in a good mood today.”

It’s probably because of the dream he had last night (god, that was a rollercoaster; he doesn’t understand how his brain could’ve pulled together all the happenings of the past week and squished them into one very clouded story, but then he’d probably have to be majoring in psychology to understand that anyway), but it’s just the joy of the day. Although there is still snow on the ground there are fewer grey clouds in the sky, and despite the ever-freezing temperatures outside, the sun is out, and Blaine _feels_ sunnier like he did yesterday evening - less worried about life and the cafe and boyfriends called Ebony.

“Good to see,” Mr Lamouri grins, patting him once more and then moving away to take some orders. 

Blaine grins back at him momentarily and watches Rachel as she hands a flat white to a man beaming at her, and he notices how her cheeks are tinted a deep shade of red, and he’s suddenly overcome with intrigue at the way she’s flushing profusely. 

He only gets a glimpse of the man as he takes the coffee as a takeaway, but he sees the short, dirty-blonde hair and kind smile, and the way Rachel is smiling back, _oh god._

“So this is interesting,” He starts, wiggling his eyebrows at her, “what’s his name?”

“Shut up,” Rachel replies defensively, “You didn’t talk to that guy reading _Vogue_ yesterday so I’m not telling you about him.” 

Blaine gapes at her briefly, “So you’re holding this against me now?” 

“Only until he comes back and you talk to him.” 

He scoffs slightly, then looks over to the lady who was waiting in the queue, who’s order is now being handled graciously by Mr Lamouri, internally thanking the universe that he gets a quick break and continues talking to Rachel. “You can’t guarantee he’ll come back.” He says, pessimistically.

“I’ve been _praying,_ Blaine. And normally I wouldn’t waste my prayers on things that don’t include myself in some way unless it’s to do with current affairs or the well-being of Barbara Streisand when I can sense her in danger, but you _deserve_ a beautiful man who works in fashion to come and shower you with love.”

Blaine tries not to judge her, silently questioning the fact that she can sense Barbara Streisand in danger, but doesn’t want to go through another long lecture about how Barbara changed cinematic history with the hit film _What’s Up Doc_ , which those lectures usually lead to despite how the conversation started. 

Instead, he asks “How do you know he works in fashion?”  
  
Rachel waves her hands about frantically as if to say, _how could you not know?_ And says, “His jacket had a hippo broach on it, Blaine. A. Hippo. Broach.” 

“...And?”

“Who, other than anyone linked closely to the fashion industry would have the initiative to put a hippo broach on their clothing?” Rachel says, matter-of-factly. 

Blaine stares at her - he’s a little confused at how Rachel suddenly knows anything about fashion when he’s seen the things she wears on days off, but it’s been a good day, so he’ll hold back those comments for now.

“Whatever. He’s probably straight anyway. And how are we even talking about this like he’s going to come back? It’s completely unlikely, Rachel.”

“Blaine!” Rachel exclaims, and Blaine’s realised how frequently she’s done this in the past week; suddenly shouting his name for all of Janice’s Coffee to hear, customers turning their heads at them, “I just said he was wearing a hippo broach.”

“Yes, that you did…” Blaine confirms, confused at her antics once again.

_“A hippo broach!”_

“You’re just repeating the same thing, Rachel, it’s not going to help me understand if you keep on shouting the same words at me.”

Rachel’s expression falters, drops slightly, and she sighs, lowing her voice. “Straight men don’t wear hippo broaches, Blaine. Even I know that, and you’ve told me one hundred times that my gaydar leaves much to be desired.” 

“I have told you that...” Blaine reflects, and then adds, “If you claim to have shitty gaydar then how are you going to convince me that Ebony is gay?

“Ebony?” 

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up - he wasn’t even aware of the use of Vogue Man’s fake name that he’s made for him, but of course, it’s just his luck for Rachel to embarrass him when his day is actually going well for once.

“It’s— um, it’s the name I came up with… for him.”

“You know Ebony is commonly a girl’s name, right?”

No, he was not aware of this; when he first thought of the name he was just thinking ‘fancy’ and it never crossed his mind of the gender of it, and now he feels a little stupid for thinking so. 

Damn his thought-addled mind on Christmas Eve. There’s too much stress in his life right now.

He murmurs, quiet and suddenly staring at his feet, “No. I was not aware of that.”

It’s so obvious that Rachel is trying to hold back her bursts of laughter; he can _sense_ her pressing her lips together, eyes twinkling, then looks back up at her and feels like he could _cry_ when he sees her actually doing it - another moment where he thinks he could slap her so hard. 

That look of annoyance on Blaine’s face is what finally does it for Rachel, and suddenly she’s laughing so loud that the majority of the customers in the cafe have turned their heads, some, a little amused, but mostly angry; this is New York City, after all. 

“Firstly,” She breathes through laughter, “I’m not even… surprised… that you thought of a name for him… before you even talked to him,” She says, trying to talk but the giggles clutching onto her words, “but you called him Ebony?” 

The mentioning of the name again prompts more laughter from Rachel, and basically the whole of Janice’s is staring at them now - lots of old men glaring at them from behind their newspapers - and Blaine thinks that at this moment, his pride would hardly even be reduced if he just crouched down behind the counter so no one could stare at him anymore. 

“I think you owe me an explanation about that guy you served earlier now.” He says, moving back to the till when he sees someone new coming in, getting ready to take their order once more.

Mr Lamouri helps out and starts making said order, and Blaine scrubs down the empty tables, taking them around the back to dump in the sink, hoping he can coax Rachel into washing them instead of him later - a peace offering for embarrassing him so much.

Soon enough it’s five-thirty, and the mini rush hour (although not that big - Janice’s really is hidden, and if it weren’t for the bright pink shop front and warm coloured flowers it would be a rather unsuccessful business) starts back up as hurried adults come home from their day jobs, woolly hats and gloves being pulled off in relief as they enter, and Blaine and Mr Lamouri work on making the drinks while Rachel works on orders, speeding through the requests as they go.

“Blaine.” 

He feels a prodding at his arm as he cleans the steam wand with a cloth that has definitely seen better days, and glances to his side quickly to see Rachel’s light pink-painted fingernails digging into him once again. He sighs, muttering a “What now?” under his breath and that’s when he realises.

Vogue Guy is back again.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh _fuck,_ he’s completely unprepared for this, and his hair feels incredibly unruly all of a sudden, and why the hell does he always wish he applied more gel in the morning when he sees a hot guy, and oh _Jesus_ he looks so good in that cashmere jumper—

Rachel’s keeping her cool, talking to the man normally - “What can I get for you?” - but below the counter, she keeps poking Blaine, then murmurs his name through gritted teeth whilst Vogue Guy is speaking, then takes hold of his arm completely and pulls him so they’ve switched places, Blaine now at the counter and Rachel taking care of the coffee. 

He doesn’t even have time to complain; there’s a queue forming that’s larger than usual and like Rachel said a while ago, he has to keep up with the orders, so instead, he shoots a quick glare at her and looks back at Ebony.

Okay, Blaine. Stay focused, act normal. You do not know this man - he is just a hot guy. Nothing else. Act normal, do your job, be cool. You’ve got this.

“Uhm— Ebony!” 

That was not the way to do it.

It’s the first thing he blurts, and he feels even more embarrassed than when he tried to serenade that random guy at the gap age 16, even more embarrassed than when he called his piano teacher ‘mom’.

“—What?” Vogue Guy murmurs, quiet but oh _wow_ Blaine tries not to swoon at the sound of his voice - soft and angelic, comforting.

“S-sorry,” Blaine sputters, “Uh— would you like me to take your order?” 

Vogue Guy gives a confused little look, adjusts his hold on his leather messenger bag then says “Well, yes. That’s why I’m here.” and laughs awkwardly - very quick and obviously uncomfortable, not that Blaine’s surprised; he messed this up right at the beginning. 

“Right.” Blaine nods, meeting the same awkward stance as the man in front of him, “Okay, yes. What can I,” he stops. Swallows, eyes closing briefly, then opening once again. He feels out of breath. Why is he so out of breath? He hasn’t gone to the gym in months. 

“What can I get for you?” He finishes, and phew, one phrase done. He just has to get through the order and then this incredibly embarrassing encounter can be left and forgotten in the past. 

He’s so grateful that the past exists right now. 

Ebony - no, Blaine. ‘Vogue Guy’ is a much better nickname for the man - Vogue Guy, tells Blaine his order and this time it’s not a chai tea; instead, he orders cappuccino with extra froth and chocolate powder topping instead of cinnamon, and even though it’s normally an absolute bitch to make, the only thing going through Blaine’s head is ‘ohmyfuckinggodmarrymerightnow’ because… _oh my fucking god_ , in front of him stands his dream man.

They like the same coffee, they believe chai tea doesn’t actually taste disgusting and is actually very enjoyable and refreshing, and they both have good taste in fashion (at least… Blaine likes to think he does; he’s one hundred percent certain that Vogue Guy definitely does have a good taste in fashion as he eyes his colour blocked blue and orange sweater.), and they both appreciate vogue magazine - from what he’s briefly witnessed.

It’s a match made in heaven.

Blaine is snapped out of his brief daydreaming session by Mr Lamouri who whacks a dish-drying towel against his arm lightly, and Blaine realises he’s just been standing and staring at Vogue Guy for the last minute, then jumps as Mr Lamouri starts shouting something he doesn’t understand in Italian and moving back to English again, says “Serve the boy, Blaine, goddamn it!” before walking away again and getting back to his coffee making. 

“Um, are you okay?” Vogue guy asks, and Blaine has to react fast now, almost as if he’s trying to make up for lost time, nodding eagerly with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah,” He pants, “don’t worry about little old me.” and fucking salutes, and since when did he salute?

Fuck.

He can sense Mr Lamouri watching him in exasperation, and looks over to him, face resembling some sort of cry for help, and Mr Lamouri’s lips twitch a little with the ghost of a smile. 

He walks over to Blaine, shaking his head slightly and pats him on the shoulder - a staple way of him telling Blaine it’s alright - and continues with Vogue Guy’s order. 

From his place next to Mr Lamouri as he works on the cappuccino, focusing extra hard to make it all perfect, just the right temperate and perfect ratio of milk to espresso shots and adding the extra froth like he asked, focusing on making sure it’s definitely extra but not too much, he hears Mr Lamouri asking if he can get a name for Vogue Guy’s order, to which Vogue Guy replies with ‘Kurt.’

Kurt.

So it is a little fancy, but just simple, too. Kurt and Blaine. Blaine and Kurt. 

It’s so much better than Ebony.

‘Kurt’ is not a girl’s name, ‘Kurt’ is not some weird nickname Blaine had to come up with to create better daydreams and fantasies inside his head, not some nickname based off the fact that the first time Blaine saw him he was sitting by the window reading _Vogue_ Magazine. 

‘Kurt’ is a real name. It's— everything Blaine has ever really dreamed of. 

Kurt. 

Blaine smiles, and continues working, finishes off the cappuccino for Vogue Gu— no, Kurt— and hands it to him, tries to act as normal as possible to make himself seem like he’s _not usually like this._

“Uhm— there you go.” He says hastily, and Kurt just laughs, and oh god he wants to hear that sound a million times more. 

“I’m sorry about… that.” He says again.

Kurt waves a hand in dismissal, “Oh, don’t worry about it. I know it can be embarrassing when you mess up talking to guys you like.” he quips, and fucking _winks_ at him, and Blaine’s going to be struck into another daydream if he doesn’t say something right now.

Because Kurt, Vogue Guy— already knows he likes him, and suddenly his cover is completely exposed, and _oh god._ Blaine takes a short, awkward breath and forces out a little laugh, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, is— is it that obvious?” 

“I mean, you did salute at me, so that’s saying something.”

“Yeah. Um—” he tries to keep a gaze on Kurt, but eye contact seems overwhelming all of a sudden like he’s focusing too much on the depth of it, “I get— I get a little nervous.” he says, and smiles, and okay Blaine, this is actually going quite well…

Kurt chuckles, “I noticed.” and Blaine laughs a little too much, and oh god it’s like when the girls in friends meet a hot guy - he literally cannot function properly - so instead just presses his lips together and rolls on the balls of his feet. Maybe he misjudged the fact it’s all going well.

He looks up again when he realises Kurt is speaking - “This might be too forward but um… is it okay if I could get your number?”

Oh wow. Okay—

Oh god oh god oh god oh—

“Oh my god, uhm— yes! Of course!” Blaine smiles, maybe a little too excited, not really sure what to say - he’s pretty sure he’s forgotten the way humans interact completely now he’s talking to Kurt - but takes Kurt's phone nonetheless so he can write his name and details in his contacts. 

“It was nice to meet you,” Kurt says once they’ve completed the exchange, “text me.” he smiles, then grabs his coffee and takes his seat - the same one by the window. 

Blaine stands there, a little gobstruck, hands resting on the counter as he stares at Kurt now sitting by the window, watches as he opens up a drawing pad of some sorts and starts the outlines of what he can only assume is some sort of fashion sketch. He jumps out of his daze, however, when he feels Rachel pokes his arm once more.

“So this is interesting,” She says, imitating Blaine from when he noticed her blushing at that other man.

Blaine chuckles softly through his nose, “Shut up.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for this poem: i just love it!! just a simple little love poem, and I thought it fit the chapter quite well. also meant that i could exaggerate blaine being nervous af and i love doing that to him :))
> 
> just a lil note that these updates might be less regular as i'm going back to school on tuesday, but i'm going to try and work as hard as i can to get this finished. thanks for keeping reading!! <33


	4. Going Too Far by Wendy Cope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooooo, i've just started college (a-levels) and it really is a lot of work. I'm gonna try and update these weekly if not faster than that, otherwise my workload is just gonna stress me out a LOT. i don't wanna leave this unfinished though so I am going to do as much as I possibly can to get it finished. 
> 
> just pls bare in mind that I do have,,,,,, stuff happening right now (after 6 months of nothing) so don't panic if I don't update as quickly as I have been :) 
> 
> hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Going Too Far by Wendy Cope**

_Cuddling the new telephone directory_

_After I found your name in it_

_Was going too far._

_It’s a safe bet you’re not hugging a phone book,_

_Wherever you are._

  
  


_*_

  
  


Everything’s coming up Blaine.

Okay, maybe not everything - he’s still working at Janice’s and he hasn’t got his cafe and Quinn’s moving out in two days and things _will_ be different, but as Blaine steams some milk for another cappuccino, he can’t help but smile. 

Nearly an hour has gone by, and Kurt is still sitting by the window, sketching, and Blaine can make out a sly sort of smile on his face, waiting for his second coffee of the day. 

Blaine’s head whips around and Mr Lamouri nudges his side, “Talk to him.” 

He’s not a man of many words is Mr Lamouri; only small sentences but his gestures are bigger, more heartfelt and loving. It’s probably why Blaine admires him so much, those simple gestures that he’s always appreciated. 

He looks up at him, lips pressed tightly together in a small smile, unsure of what to say. It can startle him when Mr Lamouri talks sometimes because Blaine knows how knowledgeable that man truly is - he’s incredibly wise, and when he does talk it’s usually helpful (apart from when he’s shouting at him in Italian and whacking him with a dishcloth). 

And if Mr Lamouri is telling Blaine to talk to him, it means he’s probably got to do it. 

Fuck. 

He appreciates the man’s concern - thinks back to an hour ago when he helped him order for Kurt - and probably wouldn’t be surprised if he’s secretly planning on getting Blaine together with Kurt, watching happily from afar as he admires his handiwork. It’s a very Mr Lamouri thing to do - Blaine does know that he loves love; watches him sometimes and sees the beam appear on his face when a loving couple comes into the shop, or that one time when that those two regulars ended up falling in love, and Blaine recalls how he saw Mr Lamouri trying to peek discreetly to watch their love blossoming. So no, he really wouldn’t be surprised if this all starts off from Mr Lamouri’s excitement. 

Blaine sighs, raising an eyebrow at the older man’s antics, a little sign to say ‘if this goes wrong, you owe me.’ but he supposes Kurt will still have his number at the end of the day, so there’s still a silver lining.

Unless…

Unless he completely fucks this up and Kurt never messages him or calls him ever, and his name just sits in Kurt’s contacts for the rest of time, untouched and unopened. 

In an attempt to distract his worrying, however, Blaine decides to just take the leap. Tentatively, he walks over to the attractive man’s table by the window whilst carrying his second cappuccino, and instead of just saying something a normal waiter would say such as ‘here you go’, he says, “Hi.” 

Kurt looks up from his sketching pad, and now Blaine really can see his talent - a figure drawn with a loose design around it, an ambitious dress with what seems to be padded shoulders and a plunging neckline, annotated with little notes around it to clarify what fabric it should be made of and specific details here and there. He smiles, uttering a quick thank you as he puts his pencil down on the table.

“C-can I sit… here? With you?” Blaine hesitates, and those few words seem so frightening to ask and he’s really not sure why; he’s normally used to dealing with the public - god, he’s been working in a coffee shop for three years - you get used to interacting with people on the daily once you actually have to see them all the time. 

“Oh! Yes!” Kurt exclaims, swallowing a bit of his coffee, chuckling softly when Blaine has trouble trying to move the chair to sit down. “You seem nervous.” He says again, and Blaine swallows a little, nodding awkwardly.

“Well, um. It’s not every day a cute guy comes in here and asks me for my number.” 

Kurt grins, cheeks shaded slightly more red than they were before, and Blaine admires the way it shows so obviously on his fair face, tries not to be obsessed with him already. It’s pretty hard not to do so when Kurt is currently looking at him with that smile, pink lips wide and eyes crinkling. Makes his tummy feel like it’s doing somersaults. 

He clears his throat, realising they’re both just staring at each other, if not a little awkwardly, just staring and smiling. 

“I like your sketches,” He starts, gesturing to the now-closed sketchpad still lying on the table, and Kurt’s eyebrows shoot up a little, and Blaine doesn’t understand why he seems so surprised when they looked so amazing.

“Thanks,” Kurt says, opening the cover so only he can see. “I didn’t mean to— I was only just drawing. They um— I work at vogue.”

Blaine tries to pipe down his interest a notch because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, but is surprised at Rachel’s examination being right all because the other man was wearing a hippo broach, wonders for a moment how she could be so correct - he’s never even heard Rachel talking about fashion like that before, god, she wears _cat jumpers_ \- “Oh, you do?” he asks, instead. 

“Yeah!” Kurt says, and Blaine tries to ignore the way his tummy feels even more butterfly-ish when he sees Kurt’s excitement talking about something he so obviously loves. “It’s only as a PA but… it is amazing there. These um— these sketches,” he gestures to the book, “my boss asked me for some. It was a big surprise because she’s never really shown that much interest in me—” Kurt stops all of a sudden, laughs awkwardly. “Sorry, I’m talking too much.”

Blaine waves a hand dismissively, “No! No, don’t worry! It’s nice hearing you… talk.” he blurts, and oh god Blaine why the fuck did you say that, as he sees the astonishment on Kurt’s face. You’ve gone and said too much and god he’s going to think you’re this crazy, needy man who falls in love with crushes at first glance. 

Kurt hesitates, “Um. She hasn’t really… talked to me that much. Since I started working there. But anyway,” he continues, seemingly a little embarrassed, “Yesterday she asked me for some ideas. And obviously I was surprised because she hasn’t asked me for opinions on _anything...”_ he looks at Blaine, and Blaine can see the sudden rush of relief that floods in his features when he realises that yes, Blaine is interested in this, “but she said I should show her some of my sketches, and I thought… ‘why not make some new ones?’ so this is… this is what I’m doing.” 

“Can I see them?” 

“Uh— well,” Kurt starts, “I’m not sure if you’ll like them…”

How could I not like them, I think you’re amazing and goddammit I had a dream about you yesterday, and already you seem so outgoing and ambitious and kind and—

“I’m sure I’ll like them.”

Kurt cocks his head and watches Blaine as if he’s examining him, “How do I know you’re not some weird stalker…” he quips, and his eyes flit down quickly to Blaine’s nametag on his chest, “...Blaine. All I know is your name.” 

He smirks a little, and _wait_ is he flirting? Suddenly he wants to know more about me… 

“Well,” Blaine begins, mischief laced into his voice, “if I am a stalker then this little chat would be handy for me.” 

Kurt hums, “it would.” then says after opening and closing his mouth a couple of times, unsure of what to say, then settling on “Just so I’m assured you’re _not_ a stalker…” he jokes, “why don’t you… tell me about yourself?” 

Blaine smiles, kind of amazed that actual Vogue Guy is having a conversation and flirting with him, “Well, I’m majoring in food studies at NYU, I work here… and I used to be the leader of my school choir when I was in high school. Oh! And I grew up in Philadelphia.” 

“You were in show choir?” Kurt asks with piqued interest, chin leaning on his fist as he leans forward slightly.

“Um, yeah!” Blaine says, “I mean, I’m a little surprised that you didn’t laugh at me or anything…”

“I wouldn’t laugh! I was in show choir too!” 

“Wait, really?”

“Yes! I loved it!”

Okay, wow, you really are my dream man.

To the side of him, Rachel is watching Blaine in awe, nearly bouncing on her feet. Blaine can see her in the corner of his peripheral vision and turns around for a moment to see her with a large grin fixed on her lips with her thumbs-up, and then notices Mr Lamouri’s subtle smile - lips hardly widened but eyes crinkling a little, a silent little notice to show Blaine his pride for him. Blaine’s lips press together when he sees their excited faces, and turns back to Kurt, whose head is resting comfortably on intertwined fingers, half intrigued and half joyful, almost as if he’s captivated by Blaine and his rather intrusive co-workers. 

“I— I should get back to work.” Blaine mumbles, a little embarrassed at the way Kurt’s looking at him and slides himself out of his seat and aware that he’s been talking to Kurt for a while, “Enjoy your coffee.” 

“It’s good coffee, of course, I’ll enjoy it,” Kurt winks, taking his teaspoon and gathering up some of the froth on top, “I’ll… text you.” 

Blaine shoots him a hasty nod and an awkward smile before a little “yeah” and walks back around the counter to where Rachel is still grinning fervently at him, and Blaine raises his eyebrows at her. 

That went… much better than expected.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Quinn and Tina are already back at the apartment when he gets there finally, trying to hide the enthusiastic grin on his face, maybe a little too hopeful. 

The hope and excitement fill Blaine’s body like he can’t even contain it, completely all-consuming; it’s like he’s had 4 shots of espresso and wants to do everything in the world, wants to travel to beautiful beaches and surf the waves, wants to stare at the sky like there’s nothing else more beautiful, wants to write everything he’s ever felt and cry and laugh at the same time. He feels _everything._

He walks into the tiny living room and can see from the little detailed holes in the divider between the sofa and Tina’s bed that she and Quinn are both lying on it, Quinn’s head at one end and Tina’s at the other. They’re both laughing about something Blaine probably wouldn’t relate to at all - he can sense it from the way they’re giggling - remembers the time he found himself in a very detailed discussion with them about the best period product to use and why the ‘menstrual cup’ is much more environmentally friendly and easier to use., and as much as he respects it and appreciates the learning experience, there’s not much he can do with that information. 

He listens for a moment at their chattering between subjects and gossip (such as how that girl from Quinn’s English is completely jealous of Quinn’s engagement because it’s all she’s ever wanted since like, birth) that normally Blaine would be completely engrossed in but after the excitement and adrenaline of the day, he just wants to tell them everything about Kurt instead. Shuffling between the tiny gap between the couch and Tina’s divider, he smiles as they finally notice him and suddenly he’s being pulled onto the bed by Quinn, flopping with an ‘oof’ between them, wondering momentarily how they all seem to fit. 

‘You’ve got that silly smile on your face again,” Quinn says before Blaine’s even had a chance to settle, “who is this guy anyway?” 

“What guy? You never told me about a guy,” Tina implores eagerly, “Is it that boy from your food Studies class?”

“What— why does everyone think it’s Sam?” Blaine groans as his eyes roll to stare right at the ceiling, “He’s not even gay! And I know that because he talks about boobs way too much to not be straight.”

“Could be bi. Or pan!” Tina reasons.

“He’s not— it’s not Sam, okay? It’s this guy who I met at Janice’s, it’s not even— he only came in yesterday and then somehow he was back today, which I don’t really get because Janice’s is so _hidden_ how could you even remember where it was… anyway. We talked today and I gave him his number.”

“Blaine!” Quinn gasps, “That’s great! I mean, I know I’ve got my wedding to plan and everything but maybe I’ll put it aside for yours.” she says, nudging his exposed ankle from where she’s lying on the bed, and god, please can people stop nudging him? 

“Well, I actually wasn’t… I didn’t ask to give him my number, he did. So… yeah. He might never call me or anything so… I don’t know. Honestly, I’m still surprised he even likes boys. He’s too…” he trails off, a little over aware of his slight obsession with the man and how much of it he should expose to his friends, “He’s too perfect for that.”

It’s almost as if he can hear Tina’s beaming face, “He’s perfect?”

Blaine sighs dreamily, “The perfectest.”

Quinn is suddenly shuffling around, sitting up on the bed, “Come on you guys. I am going to get those old sheet masks we never used and Blaine you are going to tell us all about this boy over pizza. We have much to talk about.”

“Aren’t those sheet masks like many months old?” Blaine asks, eyes narrowing a bit.

“Yeah, but I’m sure they’ll be fine. Now come on!”

  
  


*

They sit on their tiny sofa, sheet masks messily stuck onto their faces and a timer set for twenty minutes so they don’t stay on for too long. They’ve discovered it's actually quite hard to eat whilst wearing a sheet mask, so decide to wait for a while before they do. Blaine has to keep on sticking the mask back onto his forehead where it peels off, but he doesn’t question it, just hopes the timer will end soon so he can finally take it off, because the weird serum stuff is starting to make his face feel all weird.

“So tell me about this guy,” Tina inquires, “what’s his name? Is he hot? Oh! Does he have a dog? I love when guys have dogs.” she says excitedly. 

Blaine laughs (he realises it’s hard to laugh whilst wearing a sheet mask), “Um, well. He’s called Kurt, and yes he is hot, but… probably more beautiful. Like, beautiful sort of hot? And how would I know if he had a dog? Mr Lamouri doesn’t allow dogs in Janice’s.”

“He could’ve said he had a dog then talked lovingly about it.”

Completely tired from the events of the day, Blaine doesn’t do anything but chuckle a little and rest his head on Tina’s shoulder, and Tina gives his head a tiny pat, something he’s found she’s quite accustomed to doing, a mini sign of affection for the people close to her. 

“I’m gonna miss you guys.” Blaine hears Quinn sigh, and realises she’s watching them with a pressed smile from her end of the sofa, “I’m excited about Luke and everything, but doesn’t mean I won’t miss you all the same.” 

Reaching out a hand to Quinn, a silent sign for her to come and join him and Tina, Blaine hums sadly, giggling when the blonde woman takes his hand and is pulled into his lap much faster than she would’ve expected, and her loud laugh echoes around the room. It’s one of those laughs that makes everyone else laugh, and soon the three roommates are all trapped in a fit of giggles, face masks becoming looser and peeling off their faces, making them laugh even more when Quinn’s one nearly peels off completely.

Soon, they calm down, and the timer on Quinn’s phone beeps as a sign to take the face masks off, and they run into the tiny bathroom, hardly fitting everyone in as they peel them off with relief. 

“Now, it says on the packet you’re not meant to wash off the serum stuff from the mask,” Quinn says, “you should try and rub it in and then leave it.”

Blaine briefly wonders what this would be like with Kurt, if he enjoys things like this, if he would read out the instructions and Blaine would follow or would it be vice versa, and oh god what if I helped him put the mask on? What if I got to touch his fair face, all smooth skin and red lips, cup his cheeks in my hands. Sure, it would be very messy and probably, most definitely much more funny than romantic, but I know for sure that it would never, never ever be awkward, because he’s seen my awkward side already and he finds it adorable—

Stop.

It’s crazy how one person can fill someone’s thoughts completely, how one person is suddenly so all-consuming it’s so hard not to think about them every minute, crazy how Blaine has only talked to this man once and suddenly the world is surrounded by Kurt; he wonders what he’s doing right now - is he sketching more? Does he sew? (He must be able to sew if he works at vogue, of course, he must).

Skincare session over, masks off and discarded in the bin, Blaine walks back to the living room (slash Tina’s bedroom) and grabs his phone wearily, collapsing back onto the sofa, cuddling one of the cushions. 

But… oh wow. 

**Unknown Number:** hey, it’s kurt

Blaine gasps when he sees it, that one little message, such hope radiating from a few words. There’s not even much meaning behind it, Blaine knows, he did get an A* in English at high school, but he thrives on his own dreams, always needs something to look forward to and _want._

He just needs to make this work.

He types then deletes his words again, then types once more, happy he can finally arrange his words how he wants them rather than all jumbled up and out of control like that first time at Janice’s. 

**Blaine:** Hi, Kurt! How are you?

He can feel his heart in his throat, beating heavily, and he feels like he’s going to stop breathing when he sees the little speech bubble pop up and then disappear three times, wonders if Kurt feels as nervous as he is, wonders if what he just said was too eager, thinking thinking thinking—

 **Kurt:** i’m good, just finished some more sketches :)

 **Blaine:** Cool! Can I see them?

 **Kurt:** so eager ;0))))) they’re not very good

 **Blaine:** I don’t mind!

God, he is _so_ eager.

They talk for hours, Blaine’s not very sure how much time passes, hardly notices Quinn and Tina moving around the room as he attempts to eat some of his pizza he ordered but suddenly all the excitement of talking to Kurt makes him feel full already. 

Kurt’s talented - there’s no way to question that once Blaine sees his designs, there’s so much love been put into them he can’t help but stare in awe at them. Blaine also thinks about how Kurt mentioned he was in show choir, too, wonders how his voice sounds - if it’s soft and pearly like how he sounds how he’s talking, words rounded and warm, like a sweet caress on Blaine’s cheek, reminds him of how his grandmother used to do it to him to get him to go to sleep when he was younger - Blaine assumes he would sound just wonderful. 

The way they talk it's like Blaine wants to hug his phone.

And on the other side of the line, Kurt lies tucked up in his duvet, hardly able to hide the smile as he laughs at this beautiful, beautiful man. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this poem,,,,,,, ugh its just so cute. it's got those pining vibes and I wanted to use it for that build up to Kurt and Blaine finally talking and getting to know each other. its just like,,,,, everything happening is NEW and exciting and Blaine is just scared but so so hopeful,,,,, i love it so much <3333


	5. Favourite by Wendy Cope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, here's chapter five!! hopefully if everything works out there's going to be either 10/11 chapters. i haven't said the amount in the tags because things change from my plan as I write. 
> 
> also, please expect these updates to come weekly if not shorter. so at most, the next chapter will be written by next Sunday, but this might change depending on if I get it finished faster than that. if it comes later than next Sunday don't worry either!!!
> 
> hope u enjoy this chapter, pls leave a comment and kudos when you're done as it would mean a lot!! <3333

**Favourite by Wendy Cope**

_When they ask me, “Who’s your favourite poet?”,_

_I’d better not mention you._

_Though you certainly are my favourite poet_

_And I like your poems too._

  
  


*

  
  


They talk non-stop for a week.

It’s like the best week ever; it’s the best week Blaine will ever have.

Normally it’s just little messages, little texts from Kurt telling Blaine about his day, or about his boss who Blaine has interpreted to be slightly all over the place - one minute she’s apparently praising Kurt and the next she acts like she doesn’t know him at all - or at least that’s what Blaine’s hearing from Kurt. Sometimes it’s just silly things like ‘saw this coffee shop, reminded me of you’ or ‘i do have to ask, why does Mr Lamouri like _Friends_ so much, I mean it’s such an overrated show anyway’, the latter of which Blaine tries to not get offended about because it’s Kurt, _Kurt_ is texting _him._

Rachel has definitely noticed his sudden change in demeanour - the way he looks a little more lively in the mornings even when she’s late, which is usually something that annoys Blaine to the highest extent because it means more orders and _not enough people_. Even on the evening shifts when he’s tired and hungry and all of the customers coming in are stressed because it’s the end of the day. Even when that one five-year-old spilt her banana milkshake all over Mr Lamouri’s mahogany tables and Blaine had to scrub at it frantically for it to come off whilst Mr Lamouri cursed angrily in the kitchen. All in the past week.

And on Friday, Blaine comes in still smiling, still laughing at his phone as he texts _Kurt._

 _Kurt,_ Kurt Kurt Kurt, it sounds so lovely on Blaine’s lips, his name, Kurt, over and over again he just wants to say it, repeat it on his lips till they’re aching, till his throat is dry and his heart is beating fast in his chest. As if he doesn’t say it like that in his head…

And okay, yes, it’s only been a week. And yes, this texting thing is just as friends. But Blaine _likes_ him. He does, he really, really does. Kurt is smart and quick-witted and funny and brave, and Blaine feels safe talking to him, wants to run to him and dance with him and wonders if he really _can_ cook because then in the evenings Kurt can make him carbonara, and in the mornings Blaine can make his trademark blueberry pancakes, and oh god nothing has ever felt like this before.

He’s never really known anything like this, never been so… obsessed with someone like this, never thought so much all the time about someone like this, never knowing anyone as amazing as… this.

It isn't love yet. He knows it isn't love yet, he’s sure.

But this is different to those awkward high school crushes, he’s had those ‘ _hey um I kinda like you’_ crushes and graceless kisses in between lessons that were kind of disgusting and Blaine would rather forget. He’s been with… other people. He’s not completely new to this. There’s been Jackson, that one very incredibly rich boy at Dalton (where Blaine used to board) who kissed him a couple of times (and who Blaine also serenaded at that The Gap) but turned out to have an incredibly large ego, or that one guy who Blaine only half-remembers from an incredibly drunken college night out, who made out with him in front of all his friends - he’s not completely sure of that man’s name, and he’s definitely not proud of it. The only way he really knows is because Quinn always teases him about it. And then, Nathaniel, but Blaine does _not_ count Nathaniel, for obvious reasons. He’s definitely not petty about Nathaniel at all. Or annoyed at himself because he was actually attracted to someone who tucked their thick sweatshirt into their jeans.

Petty or not, that doesn’t matter now because of Kurt. Kurt is better than any of those other boys. They’re just boys to Blaine. Kurt is…

He doesn’t want to say what Kurt is, because that would be too much too fast. Instead, he’ll continue texting and hopefully, _hopefully,_ things will happen. 

“So, how’s it going with Ebony?”

Blaine’s head shoots around to where Rachel is polishing a latte mug and smiling at him mischievously, “He’s— stop calling him that!”

“What?” Rachel says, nearly singing with her pride, “I personally think it’s cute that even though you only saw the guy once, you dreamed up his name and everything and pictured a life with him. You’re absolutely smitten, it’s adorable.” 

Frowning at her bluntness, Blaine tries to ignore the subtle judgement in Rachel’s voice and attempts to argue that no, he is not smitten at all, not one bit, but then thinks back to the past week of constant texting texting texting and has to settle on, “Okay. Yes. I am a little smitten.”

“You are _totally_ smitten.”

“A little.” 

Rachel just smirks knowingly, says “Fine. But how’s it going?”

“It’s— good.” Blaine smiles, and before he can say anything else there’s a man walking in mumbling something seemingly very important into his headset, lips moving fast and Blaine’s not really sure how to talk to him.

The man orders quickly, less than half paying attention to Blaine - just hands him the money and leaves. Without even questioning his rudeness, there’s a buzz in his pocket and Blaine almost glows with his excitement.

There are not many people in the Cafe - it’s three PM and the rush for lunch from busy workers has calmed down, and because Janice’s is hidden apart from when people need their daily food, there’s hardly anyone sitting down apart from a few elderly people and some parents with young children, so before Rachel can even stop him to keep questioning him about Kurt, Blaine’s running around the back and ignoring Mr Lamouri’s complaints as he arranges some orders. He locks himself in the bathroom, finally removing the phone from his pocket.

 **Kurt:** hey…

Every time Kurt messages, it’s like all the alarms in the world have been set off for Blaine. Everything happens fast, the world itself is more urgent, life feels loud and his heart beats faster as if there’s some sort of signal. It’s too crazy, it’s way, way too crazy the way Kurt makes him feel so much, so much from one little word.

Blaine analyses the text, stares at the word over and over, stares the ellipsis at the end. It’s the way Kurt makes simple words so important without any effort at all, Blaine feels like he should note down every word he writes and memorise it forever. 

He keeps staring at the text, isn’t sure what to think of it. He wonders if this is going to be the start of something bad, something unexpected that Blaine is completely unprepared for as he sees the way there’s some sort of negative undertone to it. 

He texts: _You okay? :)_

 **Kurt:** are you at janice’s?

Blaine looks up at the ceiling for a moment, thinks, then types: _Yes :) Are you alright though?_

 **Kurt:** i’m coming over x 

A… kiss? 

Kurt put a kiss next to his text.

Oh god, they’ve only been talking for a week, and Blaine’s been texting him way too much, and now he’s pressured Kurt into putting a kiss next to his text because that’s what happens when you talk to someone who knows you’re attracted to them and now what does he do next—

This was not how he planned it out in his head.

But these things never happen as they do in your head because life doesn’t happen that way. Life is unpredictably messy, it’s a clutter of misunderstandings and things going wrong and things going right. Only sometimes they go right. Right?

Blaine sighs, texts a little ‘Okay’ and puts another smiley face there and sends it straight away without even rereading, then regrets it right after as he sees the number of smiley faces he’s put in his previous texts, and then worries whether or not he should’ve put a kiss back instead, and wonders if Kurt’s actually noticed those smiley faces there because there is an embarrassing amount of them, and then tries to calm himself because oh god Kurt is coming to see him and he’s never done this before, never actually told Blaine that he’s meeting him here. 

It scares Blaine how significant this feels to him, the fact that Kurt actually wanted to tell him that he’s coming over - a signal that can only mean Kurt doesn’t care about his cappuccinos with extra froth and chocolate frosting, oh god no, it means he cares about _Blaine._

And that means all too much for a Friday afternoon. 

His feet bring him back into the front lobby without even realising as if his brain has gone into automatic steering mode and he’s just the vessel. Suddenly he’s staring out the window, raindrops cascading down it as it falls heavily outside, bustling strangers of New York City protecting themselves with umbrellas and hooded coats.

Blaine peers at the flowers framing the shopfront, roses and lavender and clematis, all slightly different shades of pink. 

He can relate closely to those flowers right now, as his cheeks heat up and god they’re so hot they must be bright red by now… 

It’s only when Blaine hears Rachel laughing even louder and more over-exaggerated than usual that he notices a certain man with dirty blonde hair standing charmingly in front of the counter, eyes twinkling with a little smirk on his face, one eyebrow raised. 

“And then I told her if your breath control is _that_ bad then— oh.” 

The man’s head turns slightly to where Blaine is standing, having to cut off his (seemingly offensive) witty remark to Rachel, and Blaine is just staring, all confused and a little embarrassed at walking in on this man’s blatant flirting with his colleague, eyes darting between the two of them.

It all clicks together in his mind suddenly, brain whirling as he realises a few days ago Rachel passing that guy a flat white, remembers the same kind smile from him before, and Rachel’s beaming face - the same expression she has now. This is the same guy.

Blaine’s still in his confused daydream, slightly worrying that oh god he will be the last person in the world ever to get a boyfriend, but tries to hide his envy as he keeps staring. Oh my god, Blaine, you need to stop staring—

The man coughs awkwardly, thick lips tugging at the sides in a quick smile, only momentarily there before he says “Uh— can I help you?”

Rachel isn’t really doing anything, she’s just standing there still staring at the man, that same giddy, beaming smile on her face, almost drunk with enchantment, a little bit like Blaine, although the man is completely unattractive to him and he’s just genuinely confused with the whole ordeal. Instead, Rachel just keeps standing there, giggling shamelessly and swaying side to side, not even noticing Blaine’s presence or the other man’s questioning of him being there.

“N—no,” Blaine murmurs, “I was just, um—” he stops for a moment, blinking and realises that oh wow he hasn’t done that in a while; his brain is only just coming to terms with the atmosphere again, snapping out of his daze. “I was just… coming back. Erm—” he clears his throat, “who are you?”

The man grins smugly, head tilting for a moment as if to say ‘how could you not know who I am?’ like Blaine would have any idea, then says “Oh, well. I was just conversing sweetly with this lovely lady here,” he smiles, gesturing back to Rachel and not really answering Blaine’s question at all. He leans in slightly, and Rachel’s eyes widen but he pulls back before anything bad happens, and he speaks once more. “Rachel, is it?” He asks, “I just read your name tag then. Beautiful name.”

Blaine tries so hard not to roll his eyes. This man is completely pulling out all of the cliches at once with that stupid, _stupid_ 50’s dreamboat smile and probably the whitest teeth Blaine’s ever seen, and the way he’s got one eyebrow slightly raised like he’s the most unthinkable human being to have ever lived; it’s quite uncanny how unbelievably cliche his whole face looks - basically the same as every attractive man Blaine’s ever seen on the television - and he really can’t understand the way Rachel is completely captivated by him, just staring dumbly at him like this man is the most extraordinary person she’s ever laid eyes upon, and Blaine just thinks, god, these straight people—

A 50’s dreamboat would never compare to Kurt.

Kurt, with his gold star smile, cute little nose and eyelashes fanning down onto his cheeks, framing his face so perfectly, and that jawline, oh god his jawline, so slick and clean-cut and practically screaming for kisses to be placed along it; Blaine has to stop himself thinking even further when his mind trails back to Kurt’s well-moulded body - strong shoulders and thin waist, that dress shirt framing it so beautifully on that first day he saw him.

No, 50’s Cliche really could not compare to Kurt. 

“Earth to Blaine…”

Blaine jumps out of his daze once again when he hears Rachel’s voice, sort of echoing into his thoughts. Obviously she’s snapped out of her daydreaming too because when he turns and sees her, she’s standing so close to him he doesn’t even think about his reaction because she’s right _there,_ cheeks still red and teeth shining with her glowing smile - practically radiant - and Blaine really wants to slap her.

Why… him?

“Yes. Hi.” He finally says, finding something to busy himself with, grabbing some kitchen towels and some disinfectant from one of the cupboards underneath the counter and wiping down the surfaces - a small excuse to not keep eye contact with _50’s Cliche_ again after this embarrassing encounter. 

“I should get going, then.” Cliche speaks up again, and the way he says it - it’s like he thinks of himself as some sort of superior being or something - “This is for you, Rachel. Don’t spend it too quickly.” he smirks, voice hinted with some sort of humour that Blaine doesn’t find funny at all, really more smug than anything else. 

Blaine looks up at Cliche again, and notices that same raised eyebrow on his face, a little smirk as he turns and walks away, his to-go coffee cup still in his hand. Watches as he takes extra care to choose between the recycling bin and the usual bin by the door to discard of it on his way out, walking away smugly. 

Blaine only processes his words a short moment before he’s out the door, and sees the ten dollar tip lying on the counter, realising that 50s Cliche has just given Rachel a whole ten dollar tip for one coffee. Jesus—

“Wait! I didn’t catch your name!” Rachel is suddenly shouting, running around the side of the counter to 50s Cliche who’s nearly left the cafe.

The man stops, head cocking, still not turning, then does so. There’s that smug little smirk on his face again when he does, and then grabs rachel’s forearms, holding her like they’re an old married couple, and Blaine (still watching) would bang his head into the wall if he didn’t remember the fact that Kurt, oh god Kurt, is coming over very soon, and he needs to look somewhat presentable.

“It’s Jesse. Jesse St James.” The man smiles, then turns back to the road into the falling rain, rounding the corner and leaving, flaunting himself to the rest of New York for them to cringe at. 

Rachel turns around as she finally gets the last glimpse of _Jesse St James,_ and oh god, who’s even called that, Blaine thinks, but as he looks confusedly at Rachel, he sees her giddy smile and the way she’s incredibly flustered, and decides that _fine,_ if this incredibly boring man can make her that excited, then Blaine is probably a just a little jealous and blind of something Rachel can obviously see in him, and decides to be happy for her instead of take this out on her instead.

Still, he can’t really control his confusion and the way the words “What the hell was that?” spill out of his mouth without his authorization, and really wants to cringe when he sees Rachel looking at him with _that_ look, the one she does when Blaine’s done something to unsatisfy her, like that first time Kurt entered Janice’s and Blaine did nothing. The way her eyebrows raise looks incredibly resembelant to his mom, which isn’t very comforting to Blaine at all. It’s her look to say, ‘I am very disappointed in you, Blaine,’ which just reminds him of times aged eleven when he forgot to wash the dishes, or when he failed his maths exams - something he would rather not remember. 

“Don’t you _see,_ Blaine?” Rachel practically shouts at him from across the room, which would normally be fine if there weren’t actual customers sitting in the shop, and once again they all turn their heads at Rachel’s antics. Blaine momentarily wonders how they actually keep customers here with Rachel screeching at him all the time, let alone not being shouted at by Mr Lamouri, who is still working around the back in the kitchen. He likes to assume that Mr Lamouri has a bit of a soft spot for Blaine, what with him working loyally at Janice’s for three years and always trying to behave (in some way, at least).

“Um, no, I really do not see, Rachel,” Blaine says, voice quieting as a hint for her to just _come over here_ and keep her voice down too, “that guy was really weird Rachel, I don’t really understand—”

“He is the epitome of beauty, Blaine!” Rachel cuts him off, “How can you not find Jesse attractive?” 

Because he’s not attractive. Because he isn’t as funny, and he isn’t as caring, and he doesn’t take my breath away, and on top of that it’s not like everything he does is beautiful, it’s not like even after his personality he’s so talented, and he isn’t _Kurt._

Before he can respond, there’s someone bustling hurriedly into the shop, umbrella closing messily, hiding their face as they shake the water off of it, and a little sigh escaping their lips, then closes the umbrella and oh god.

It’s Kurt.

He’s here again, like he said on the message - that little kiss - and Blaine realises how his eyes look a little redder than usual, hair a little more messy. His fuzzy peacoat is dotted in mini raindrops, sticking to it, some of them trailing down and dropping onto the floor as he moves forward. Suddenly Rachel is completely irrelevant to Blaine as Kurt walks in front of her, a sad looking smile on his face and something like relief painted there too.

The way he looks - Blaine’s worried, because his eyes seem deeper, so full of emotion, as if he’s wading through water and it’s still caught in his eyes - red rimmed and eyelashes stuck together, damp from something and Blaine’s pretty sure it’s not the rain.

“Hey,” Blaine smiles, and tries to ignore his heart beating out of his throat, “Are you— do you wanna talk?”

A short smile on Kurt’s face and a sniff before he just says, “No, thank you. Just— a cappuccino. Please.” then looks down at his boots - Blaine notices he’s wearing white doc martens and vertically striped black and white trousers that cling to his legs perfectly, although he feels a little bad for appreciating that so greedily when Kurt is obviously hurting in front of him.

Without another word, Blaine nods hastily and gets to work, warming up the cappuccino mug and then steaming the milk, looking up at Kurt every now and then and just hoping, hoping with all his worth that this coffee will make him feel a little better, that Kurt should never feel this way, that wherever Kurt is in the word and whatever time, he’ll always have the warmth of coffee by his side.

(Blaine also hopes that coffee reminds Kurt of him, but tries not to focus too much on that). 

Mr Lamouri has finally finished in the kitchen and moves back into the front lobby, and Blaine’s head turns towards him as he hears his footsteps, a short smile showing on his lips and focuses back on the coffee, secretly appreciates the way the older man’s face lights up as he notices Kurt standing in front of the counter, and Blaine thinks that if Mr Lamouri is happy to see Kurt, everything will be okay in the end.

He’s always been a father figure to Blaine, this quiet man who’s seemingly scary at first (god, he really did used to scare Blaine before), but now he’s always there, comforting to see and full of wise words when he wants to speak, and Blaine knows that if he ever does get the opportunity to have a cafe of his own, Mr Lamouri will be someone he’ll miss dearly, will always be mindful of his absence as he works on orders and making his own menu and designing the shop. 

(The only times when he’s actually scary is when she’s shouting at Blaine in italian about children spilling milkshakes on his mahogany tables). 

Blaine finishes with the coffee and hands it to Kurt, taking the money and putting it into the till as Kurt gives it to him. He smiles, and Blaine pretends to ignore the way his eyes seem foggier, more hurt and relief there as he looks at him, like Blaine giving him this coffee is something significant, like Blaine’s face means something more to Kurt than Blaine will ever understand. 

(He probably does understand, because every time Kurt makes another appearance in his life it’s like the stars are brighter in the sky, and judging by the light pollution that hides them, that says a lot).

“I um,” Blaine takes a sudden breath, “I’m here if you ever want to… talk.” 

There’s that same sad smile from Kurt again, “Thanks Blaine.” and it’s just two little words, very quick and hardly coherent but to Blaine, it holds a weight he’s not sure he can carry yet.

And as Kurt sits down at his table once again, the same table he always sits at, Blaine watches and sees that sad smile on his face flood with warmth as he looks down at his cappuccino to see a smiley face drawn onto the froth with hot chocolate powder, sideways like the ones in Blaine’s text messages, and Blaine thinks, _so you notice after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this poem is so beautiful, i love wendy cope's poetry because the way she writes is so simple but it still holds so much meaning at the same time. it's basically saying that this love interest's personality (in this story, kurt) comes before their work and what they do, because the person behind the poetry (or in this story, kurt's sketches) is more important than the work itself because this person is so important to them already,,,,, i hope that makes sense??? (I've drank a lot of coffee today oops) 
> 
> But basically this chapter is just blaine simping even harder for kurt which is what we love to see ;))


	6. Come to the Edge by Christopher Logue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOO! Okay, finallyyyy chapter six is here!! Like I said, these updates now might take a little longer - I’ve been really busy this week:)  
> Hope you enjoy!!!

**Come to the Edge by Christopher Logue**

_ “Come to the edge. _

_ We might fall. _

_ Come to the edge. _

_ It’s too high! _

_ COME TO THE EDGE! _

_ And they came, _

_ And he pushed, _

_ And they flew.” _

  
  


_ * _

  
  


“So anyway, he kissed me…”

Blaine’s trying really hard to listen to Rachel’s recap of her current love life with the infamous Jesse St James, but there’s a buzzing in his pocket. He tries to ignore it, tries to nod excitedly along with his coworker’s words and add in little ‘oh my god!’s every now and then to show at least some interest, but when he knows the one person he keeps on thinking about is texting him right this moment, it really discourages his enthusiasm a considerable amount. 

He can feel it, each little alert vibrating directly against his thigh, and in some sort of erotic novel or movie this would probably turn into something incredibly explicit or outrageously far fetched - Blaine is very aware of that because he has read a large amount of star wars fanfiction in his time on Earth - but in reality, it’s just sort of annoying knowing that Kurt is talking right now and he can’t hear him speak, can’t read his beautiful words (okay so sometimes they’re not completely beautiful; last night he was complaining to Blaine about how he’d found a rat in his store cupboard next to the quinoa and is now genuinely terrified for his life, to which Blaine responded that he can be like Pheobe from that episode of friends, having little rat babies in his cupboard as a secret, and tried not to be offended once again when Kurt threw shade at Friends for the second time), the way he writes is like stardust; little tiny specs of glitter that are so small yet so valuable, and Blaine wonders if he writes things for Vogue too.

It’s funny, even though they’ve been talking for so long, Blaine still doesn’t  _ know  _ Kurt. Yes, he vaguely knows about his job and that he’s gay  _ (thank god) _ , and he knows his favourite coffee is a cappuccino and  _ not _ chai tea because that first time he went into Janice’s and ordered a chai tea, he didn’t really know what it was and was wildly disappointed it didn’t taste as cool as it sounded, much to Blaine’s chagrin because he’s once again alone in the ‘Lovers of Chai Tea Club’ (not that said club actually exists). But he doesn’t know Kurt.

He doesn’t know where in New York he lives, he doesn’t know how old he is (although Blaine assumes he can’t be that much older than him because,  _ wow, _ his skin is really  _ so  _ clear), he doesn’t know anything about where in Vogue he works, doesn’t know anything about where he grew up or his other interests, and much to Tina’s disappointment (because she  _ still  _ keeps on asking), he still doesn’t know if he has a dog. 

_ ‘Maybe if you asked him on a date you might actually know.’ _ Is what Quinn had told him over the phone. She’s moved in with Luke now, and Blaine can’t ignore the fact that he does miss her a whole lot. He was pretty distant with her the last week she was home; thinking about Kurt and life and oh my god Quinn’s moving out soon and I’m completely helpless and  _ stuck right here  _ whilst both of my closest friends have boyfriends and fiances and I am here with _ nothing—  _ but that was before he got that first message from Kurt that week and now things are finally looking up for Blaine. 

He does need to ask Kurt out, he knows that - of course, he does. But it’s just—

It’s just that Kurt’s  _ Kurt _ and Blaine is… well.  _ Blaine, _ aged twenty-one and still wearing that one lobster patterned cardigan he got four years ago because he hasn’t grown at all since he was thirteen; he’s still five foot eight like he’s always been since that age and always will be; his hair is way too curly and uncontrollable so he has to slather it down with three handfuls of gel each day which probably does it no justice at all; he’ll always be awkward around boys because they’re all so much more handsome than  _ him _ . 

And Kurt is… not that.

Kurt is smart overcoats and cups of cappuccinos and effortless humour and casual flirtiness and faces of angels; Kurt is looking good even on the days that seem hard for him and Kurt is Blaine wanting to brush that little bit of hair that falls over his forehead so perfectly. He’s too much and too amazing for Blaine.

If God sent down one person to bless Blaine with their presence during his day-to-day life, it would be Kurt. 

Well. Kurt or Young Hugh Grant (specifically from _ Four Weddings and a Funeral  _ just because his curtains were at their best in that film _ , _ but he doesn’t really mind that much). He definitely does prefer Kurt though, because he isn’t old now and his hair isn’t grey and is also effortlessly handsome (not that Hugh Grant isn’t handsome now but— anyway).

What Blaine is trying to say is that… Kurt is too good for him. It’s just a fact. There’s hardly any point in asking him out right now.

Things like this take time…

“What?” 

Blaine blinks suddenly and realises yes, he has just been daydreaming for… well, he’s not really sure how long, but what he does know is that  _ god _ , Rachel is still talking about Jesse St James and Blaine’s really not sure how long Rachel’s story can possibly be if he was daydreaming for such a long amount of time; maybe there’s more to Rachel’s love life than he might’ve once thought, because he only assumed that Jesse had popped into Janice’s a couple of times and it was just awkward stares and flirty comments every now and then, but of course, once again, he has severely misjudged the whole situation.

Everything is NOT coming up Blaine. 

He’s also noticed from Rachel’s ‘what’ that he just said ‘these things take time’ actually out loud rather than in his mind, once again thinking about Kurt and all the logistics that come with it.

“Oh, uhm… s— sorry,” He hesitates, finally out of his logistically induced reverie, “Wh—what were you saying?” 

Rachel’s lips tug at the slides momentarily before hinting, “I’m not going to go into the deepest details about what me and Jesse did that night, but what I can say is—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence. Please. Just— don’t.”

Okay, so maybe this isn’t a dating thing, maybe it’s just a… hookup thing, although Blaine can hardly believe such an idea. Rachel isn’t the type of person to hook up with someone before she knows them well or has at least been on a date with them first. 

He knows this because the subject has come up more than once in one of her weekly lectures - normally with eavesdropping customers who pretend like they’re not listening in whilst they make the coffee for them - and even though Blaine does like to zone out during those moments (he’s realised he’s doing a lot more of that than he usually does - just always, always thinking about Kurt), he does remember at least half of the things she tries to nail into his brain.

“Fine. But what I’m saying is, this is like a  _ thing _ now!” Rachel says, and Blaine can just detect the fact that she’s trying not to jump up and down excitedly as she emphasises the word ‘thing’.

He chuckles in surprise, a little mind-blown with the whole ordeal seeing as a few days ago (three days, to be precise - it’s Monday now) he was blissfully unaware of Rachel’s budding love life, but it seems to be that she’s actually been… involved with someone for over a month now.

He takes a short breath in, tries to veer the subject further onto Rachel for once because he’s probably done enough wallowing in self-pity for a few weeks, “So, when did this thing start?” 

The way Rachel smiles even harder does make Blaine happy, he must admit. It’s nice to see her coworker looking merrier, nice to hear her talking about something other than her confusing college or Barbara Streisand for once. 

“Well, actually, it started just before Christmas. You know, that time Quinn rushed in unannounced to shout to the whole world she got engaged, much to my disapproval as it contrasted to the whole relaxed hue of Janices that day?”

Blaine gapes at her, “Why didn’t you tell me? And please, stop with the ‘bitching about Quinn thing’ when you know I’m her best friend.”

“Jesse said it’s— hotter… if we keep things a secret,” Rachel reasons, completely ignoring Blaine’s request about Quinn, “And obviously that’s like, really  _ not _ me because you know I’m destined to stand in front of a large crowd of people and show off my talents and dreams and excitements, but he was just so alluring and I thought at least this time it would be worth it—”

“Wait, wait, wait wait,” Blaine stops her, “so, you kept your relationship a secret because Jesse was attractive?

Rachel raises her eyebrows, “That is not—”

A little cheeky grin appears on Blaine’s face, and he tries to hide his laughter, but suddenly it’s just… erupting out of him and he can’t contain it. Rachel’s glaring at him, lips and nose scrunched up like she’s trying to impersonate an angry five-year-old, and it doesn’t help Blaine calm down one bit. 

Suddenly, though, he’s interrupted again when there’s that buzz buzz buzzing in his pocket once again, and Blaine knows it’s Kurt. 

“I’ll… be right back.” He mumbles quietly when the laughter dies down and they’re getting back to their usual tasks, “Please don’t tell Mr Lamouri because I really cannot handle him shouting at me.” 

Rachel’s definitely noticed this later, his random moments of just leaving the lobby to go and hide somewhere, and Blaine just knows that she’s acutely aware of the fact that these recent wanderings are because of Kurt. 

“Wai— Blaine!” 

He ignores her, though, because once she’s realised where he’s going (the bathroom around the back, again) he’s already made it to his destination, moving the lid of the toilet seat down and sitting on it, overlooking the fact that this room really does need some refurbishing. 

**_Monday, (1:56pm)_ **

**Kurt:** blaine !!!!!

**Kurt:** work is boring

**Kurt:** i’m bored :-(

**Kurt:** i know it’s probably very ungrateful of me to say my work is boring but…….. i’m bored

**_Monday, (2:24 pm)_ **

**Kurt:** sewing is too stressful right now

**Kurt:** i really do appreciate leather but i hate sewing it. (ignore the euphemism)... this is unbearable

So he… sews?

Okay, of course, he sews. He works at Vogue for god’s sake. But nevertheless, Blaine wonders what he’s making right now - well, probably something leather by the looks of it - and as he checks the time he realises that those messages were sent just minutes ago. 

Oh god, he’s online right now—

He types,  _ Watcha making? ;)  _

His heart  _ thud thud thuds _ in his chest, and there’s that dry, aching feeling in his throat like there’s a piece of string pulling hard around his neck until Blaine is unable to breathe - that feeling you get when you try and make yourself hold back your tears.

And he feels  _ so much. _

**Kurt:** oh, it’s just this dress that allessandra (my boss - i’m not sure if i told you her name !!) has actually let me make. it’s not one of my designs, but it’s pretty nice…… leather isn’t my forte though,..... at all

 **Blaine:** I think you did mention her name once! And I'm sure it’ll be amazing.

**Kurt:** thanks :’)

That cute little crying face; Blaine just wants to curl up on the floor and start crying himself; everything about Kurt is just gorgeous. Gorgeous and adorable. Gordorable? Adorgeous. Whatever. It doesn’t change the fact he’s just staring at his phone screen like he’s never seen something like it before when in reality he’s still just amazed that Kurt’s talking to him. 

_ This is your moment, _ he thinks. This is the moment where you ask if he wants to come to Janice’s and then you can ask him out. But…

But no. Because Kurt is at work and he’s busy with like, making a leather dress or something and Blaine needs to get back out there because he really doesn’t want to lose his job anytime soon, especially because he’s so close to buying that coffee shop, and he’d rather not hurt Mr Lamouri when he suspects that he’s been in his good books recently. 

He’s about to type out another text, typing then deleting then typing again before there’s a rattling at the bathroom door and Blaine’s head swoops up to see Mr Lamouri’s head poking into the room. 

“You are texting again,” Mr Lamouri comments, leaning the broom he was holding in his left hand against the paint-peeling door frame, and Blaine thinks once again about how much repair this little bathroom needs as he notices the faded wallpaper on the walls. It’s only then when he notices he didn’t actually turn the light on he was so excited to reply to Kurt, and when his eyes focus back onto Mr Lamouri once more he sees that knowing smile on his face.

“Y—yes,” he hesitates, “Look, I know I’ve been doing this a lot lately but I promise it’s—”

“You have fun,” Mr Lamouri interrupts, “I have not seen you like this before and well. You deserve it, my boy. Apart from when you were obsessed with that other man—”

“Okay! Yes,” Blaine stops him, already knowing he’s going to talk about Nathaniel, who, in contrast to a large amount of time in Blaine’s life where he has heard nothing from him or had any conversations surrounding him, he’s suddenly popping up everywhere, and Blaine isn’t all that comfortable with it, not when there’s Kurt and he could be something for Blaine, god, he’s so, so close to it, but after all this, now his exes are appearing in all of his conversations.

(Well, Nathaniel does  _ not _ count as an ex, and Blaine will never regard him as one because he is not petty at all about Nathaniel. He would rather just forget about the whole ordeal anyway).

He begins once again, softer this time, “Thank you, Mr Lamouri.” he says, and smiles, and there’s an awkward moment where Blaine’s sure that the older man is going to tell him to call him Marco instead of Mr Lamouri, which is something he likes to do a lot and Blaine is not partial to hearing at all, but nothing is said, and Mr Lamouri just chuckles softly, hardly coherent through his nose before moving away from the little bathroom, taking the broom that was leaning against the door frame and walking back to his dust pile that he was sweeping, leaving the door open as he goes. 

Blaine lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding before going back to his messages and seeing that Kurt has left some more, and his heart jumps excitedly yet again.

**Kurt:** where’d u go ?? :(

**Kurt:** rude

**Kurt:** wait sorry i don’t actually think you’re rude

**Kurt:** i do actually really appreciate your texts btw 

**Kurt:** ahhhhhh

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh—

Okay, Blaine. Focus. 

**Blaine:** Sorry. It was just my boss.

**Blaine:** Speaking of, aren’t you supposed to be sewing?

He analyses his message over and over again, reading reading reading until the words are ingrained into his brain, and he momentarily wonders if this is healthy - to be so focused on sounding right - but ignores that thought as soon as it pops up in his mind, and then realises that maybe what he wrote was a little too aggressive. Maybe he should stop with the full stops. But he’s always texted like that…

The way Kurt texts is beautiful. Blaine hasn’t seen it before - all the letters are lowercase and he does use an excessive amount of ellipses when, grammatically, you should only use three dots - Blaine learnt that in grade four and, unlike some of his other classmates who are probably off doing more important things now rather than serving coffee to uninterested customers, he’s remembered it. Nevertheless, he keeps his place, still sitting on the toilet seat, still a little unaware of all of his surroundings as he holds his phone in his hands, thumbs waiting to type once more as he watches Kurt’s speech bubble appear a couple of times and then vanish again.

Blaine worries that his text did sound too formal, and maybe he should go back to putting smiley faces next to every message he sends; at least that discouraged the formality a little, but he’s unsure if maybe that sounds too positive or not.

But then he remembers a few days ago, Kurt coming into Janice’s with those red-rimmed eyes, sparkling smile a little less shiny - Blaine remembers the dullness (yet still so beautiful - always, always beautiful) on his face, somehow darkened with his hidden sadness, and he still wonders what made him like that day. He also remembers, however, the sideways smile drawn onto the cappuccino froth with the hot chocolate powder and Kurt’s face brightening a little. 

_ So you notice after all. _

Blaine won’t stop worrying. He won’t. He’ll think of all the most misleading problems as to why Kurt looked a little less sunny that day. Maybe it was just the rain, or maybe it was his boss being shitty, but Kurt seems all too sanguine for those things to dampen his day. 

He dreams up nightmares of  _ what if you can’t be with me, and seeing me at the coffee shop was just your last goodbye _ and  _ what if someone dumped you or you just came out of a long term relationship and I’ve actually been nothing to you—  _

He’s staring into space, the bright light of the phone screen in the darkening room (the lights in there only stay on for a certain amount of time) and they’re just hurting his eyes but he’s not fully aware of it, just focusing on the sounds of Mr Lamouri tidying in the kitchen and Rachel whizzing up the blender with another mix of coffee and various syrups 

The tell-tale sound of a new message being sent echoes through the room and Blaine’s eyes refocus as he notices.

**Kurt:** i’m giving up for the day……. i might come over to your work if that's okay ???? are you there right now ?? x 

_ Try not to get too excited about the kiss. _

**Blaine:** Yeah I’m at Janice’s now! :) You can come over??! :))))

Okay, too many smiley faces.

**Kurt:** your smiley faces make me happy :’)) i’ll be over in like 20 mins !!

Well, not too many smiley faces. He would really do anything to make Kurt happy, and tries not to laugh bashfully at the thought of just communicating to Kurt using emojis, although questions how that would actually work in practice. He’s just happy Kurt is still texting him. That’s all there really is to it.

_ So you notice after all. _

God, he is gorgeous.

  
  
  


*

Blaine’s been practising his cappuccinos for a good twenty minutes, listening to Mr Lamouri’s incredibly enthusiastic singing from the kitchen (he really doesn’t understand everything he has to do back there, it’s always spick and span yet the older man always seems to be cleaning or sorting out orders or restocking syrups), chuckling softly to himself.

Rachel hasn’t minded, surprisedly. Even though Blaine was gone, sitting in that decaying bathroom for at least half an hour, texting Kurt for way too long and now he’s back, wasting a lot of energy and probably money practising making cappuccinos, she’s just leaning against one of the corners of the counter, arms crossed, smiling bashfully in the way that a mom does at Christmas as they watch their children open their presents.

She thinks it’s cute, Blaine knows that, and he can’t help but be offended by it when she’s already off galavanting with this Jesse guy (who he’s finding to be rather arrogant and doesn’t really understand or like him that much), and she still thinks it’s okay to fawn over Blaine’s shameful love life? Unacceptable.

Okay, so his love life isn’t completely shameful because he’s been texting Kurt for like, the past two weeks  _ and _ Kurt’s sent him a kiss twice now… which has to mean something. It’s just that—

Blaine won’t go into it again. He won’t. 

Fine, he will. Number one, his best childhood friend who he literally grew up with and is only twenty-one is suddenly  _ engaged _ and it’s nearly been a month since that happened already, and Luke is a great guy and everything - he’s charming and cute and nice - but like, since when do people get engaged at twenty-one? 

Then there’s Tina, who is number two on the list - well. She has a boyfriend. Mike is lovely and respectful and everything Tina has ever said she’d ever look for in a man (apart from the fact that he doesn’t have a dog, much to Tina’s dismay), and even though they’ve only been together for about eight or nine months now, that doesn’t even matter. Because they’re happy together. 

And then there’s Rachel, who, until a few days ago, Blaine wasn’t even aware of her being in a relationship when actually she’s been with Jesse for two whole months. And he’s still just… talking to Kurt.

He knows he shouldn’t rush things, knows that talking is fine and good and he probably seems very ungrateful right now. Actually, he really can’t think like that when Quinn has been nagging him for about a week now that he should just ask him out, and Blaine has refused to do so. So yeah, he really can’t talk. But he still is talking.

Still, Rachel fawning over him in the background will not dampen Blaine’s good mood, he swears it won’t, as he moves onto his fourth cappuccino after he tastes the third and it was just a little too bitter. 

God, this cafe needs more customers. He has too much time on his hands.

“What was wrong with that one?” Rachel finally pipes up from her place in the corner, voice as intrusive as ever.

“Too bitter,” Blaine mumbles, “I just… I need to get this right. And the last two were a little shitty on the art front. So I’m trying again,” he says, already steaming some milk, the noise of the barista machine sounding loudly through the cafe - today’s an especially quiet afternoon. 

He doesn’t even need to turn to see Rachel's quiet laugh, doesn’t even need to acknowledge her “oh Blaine, you’re so smitten!” to know that it is there.

But when he looks up he jumps he sees Kurt standing right in front of him, a smile on his face, and then Blaine realises that he’s seen the three other cappuccinos sitting along the counter and their eyes meet, Blaine having a sudden moment of ‘this is Kurt, the one you’ve been texting all week, the one who came in here on the verge of tears last Friday, the one you cheered up with that smiley face on his cappuccino’ and he can’t really say… anything because there's… everything… right there. 

Well, maybe not everything, but Kurt has… been on his mind a lot lately.

“Hi.” Is what Blaine finally settles on, and a sense of relief rushes through him because  _ good _ , that’s how you start a conversation normally. Great. This is going well!

“Hey, Blaine.” Kurt smiles, and there’s just a little bit of humour in his eyes, mirth shining through blue-grey, “I see you’ve already made a cappuccino or two…” 

A tentative chuckle from Blaine as he says, “Oh— yeah. Well. Um,” he clears his throat, not only for pronunciation purposes but also to try and right his whole mindset and buy him some time, and realises he’s stopped making the fourth cappuccino as he’s staring at Kurt, because looking at Kurt’s face just kind of jumbles his words and thoughts completely, and he doesn’t really remember how conversing works, “I was— I’m trying to get better at, um, being a barista.” 

“Well, you’re a pretty nice barista already, must I say,” Kurt quips. “Um. Can I— have the usual?” He asks, eyes flitting down briefly to the three cappuccino cups full of coffee, slightly awkward and unsure.

“Sure! Um— just go take a seat and I’ll… hand it to you.” Blaine exclaims, maybe a little too enthusiastically.

It’s so weird, Blaine thinks as he swirls the milk in the pitcher until it’s smooth - that’s the key to making a good cappuccino,  _ always _ swirl the milk to make the froth even creamier - it’s so confusing to him that even though they’ve been talking over text so easily for the past couple of weeks, it’s still so hard for him to hold a normal conversation with Kurt without seeming weird or like he just can’t form coherent sentences at all, but then he realises that when texting, you actually have time to evaluate your words - even if your heart is leaping out of your throat, which is something that happens normally when Blaine is texting Kurt. He supposes it all just goes to show how hard this actually is for him; the idea that he is completely incapable with talking to guys when it’s actually face to face and not behind the anonymity of a phone screen.

He sighs and finishes making the coffee, adding a sprinkle of hot chocolate powder on top, temporarily arguing with himself as to whether or not he should try and attempt to draw a love heart or another smiley face or something equally heartwarming, but he’s not feeling as confident as before and decides to just tap it on instead. 

Before he can leave from behind the counter and through the little barn-door style barrier that divides the customers from the workers, though, Mr Lamouri are Rachel are both suddenly standing in front of him with stern looks on their faces, much to Blaine’s surprise, and he’s relieved that he doesn’t actually spill coffee all over them as he jumps.

“You must ask him now, Blaine.” Rachel says through gritted teeth, alarmingly quiet in contrast to when she usually does this, now she’s actually mindful that Kurt is sitting  _ right there, _ “Otherwise, this stupid little prancing-around-the-subject thing you’ve got going on will soon fizzle out into nothing and you’ll be left sad and alone. If I can do it with Jesse, so can you.”

Blaine hardly has the chance to speak before Mr Lamouri mutters a little, “Your tiny friend is right,” and Blaine doesn’t even laugh at his comment because he’s too scared at the possibility of actually making the thing between him and Kurt into something more.

“I’m not—”

“You are.” Is all Mr Lamouri interrupts with, and then with rough hands, grips Blaine’s shoulders and is turning Blaine around to face Kurt all of a sudden, who Rachel has somehow ushered over from where he was originally sitting, and now he’s standing right there. 

Mr Lamouri’s hands are still gripping Blaine’s shoulders, tight, and Blaine’s still holding Kurt’s cappuccino as Kurt stares at him, maybe a little more sure of the situation than he should be. 

Blaine’s cheeks are warming to a rather worrying heat and he’s very aware that they’re probably crimson-red right now, and his heart is beating so hard against his ribs they feel like they’re going to break, and he stares back at Kurt with that same lack of coherence like he did that first time he tried to talk to him, and it’s like he doesn’t know what sound is anymore.

They both just keep staring, and it looks like Kurt is going to say something but he doesn’t, and there’s silence in the little pink coffee shop. Blaine’s grown unaware of Mr Lamouri’s tight grip on his shoulder (he’s still holding him) and Rachel squealing excitedtly behind him, and the world just feels… faint. As if nothing is really… there.

He breathes in quickly, “Will you go out with me?” and then everything goes back to normal again. Blaine is suddenly hit with the reality that is  _ life,  _ and nothing is just a dream and what Kurt will say now will actually influrence how he feels afterwards, but as he watches the expression on Kurt’s face widen, eyebrows raising and lips tugging at the sides, he can’t help the hope that continues to grow even further in his heart.

And this time, it isn’t smashed like it usually is when Kurt says, “Yes, I thought you’d never ask!”

And Blaine thinks he’s found a new perfect moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if this poem gave too much away but,,,, yay blaine!!! Finally Mr Lamouri snapped you out of your funk :)  
> I found this poem in my anthology and I thought it fit this chapter quite well, because at the start we see blaine doubting himself (like in the poem where it says “we might fall!!! It’s too high!!!” Etc but then finally asking kurt out and it’s like THE BEST THING EVER 
> 
> Please leave a comment before u go!! See you in a few days or possibly a week aidjahdk
> 
> if you want updates to see when the next chapter is gonna be out, follow my tumblr @theyaskedmeto !!


	7. Your Task by Rumi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a long one.... hope you enjoy!
> 
> follow me on tumblr @theyaskedmeto for updates about this story to see when the next chapter will be uploaded :)

**Your Task by Rumi**

_ “Your task is not to seek for love, _

_ but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself  _

_ that you might have built against it.” _

  
  


_ * _

  
  


They schedule their date for four hour’s time - a result of awkward talking and chuckling, not sure where to meet each other’s eyes or how to regulate their plans, but then Kurt mentioned something about how odd it would be to keep meeting each other in Janice’s every other day with the lead up to the event, and then with a hasty (and incredibly uncoordinated) handshake which was completely unintended and really just plain weird, he left, not even drinking his cappuccino (all those minutes it took to make a perfect one, god), with only a small mumble of ‘I’ll text you an address, meet me.’ And now Blaine is a little starstruck, very optimistic and much too excited for his own good.

The sun’s already setting as he walks home - he works the later hours after classes finish for the day, and it’s the end of January so even though it’s only four PM, it still gets dark pretty early. He’d rather work in the mornings, but one of his lectures classes with the possible shifts and he can’t handle the stress that sorting that out would entail. 

There’s a skip in his step as he walks, though - weaving through thousands of uninterested New Yorkers, either ignoring the smile on Blaine’s face or just glaring weirdly at him as if to ask if he’s okay; it’s a Monday evening in Upper Manhattan, not fireworks time at Disneyland Paris. Nevertheless, Blaine ignores them, because what do they know? Uptight businessmen in their pinstriped suits, mumbling into earpieces and throwing away their half-drunk coffees - they know  _ nothing  _ \- because Blaine has a  _ date, _ a date with Kurt AKA _ Vogue Guy,  _ AKA Ebony AKA The Man Of His Dreams. 

Fine, maybe the excitement hasn’t worn off, like,  _ at all,  _ but Blaine can justify the fact that he’s allowed to be excited. It’s been, what? Three weeks? Since he first saw Kurt enter Janice’s Coffee - not that he really acted on anything the first time he laid his eyes upon him - it seemed like he was hardly interested - when in his head he was already dreaming up scenarios with him, and he would be lying if he said that some of those first nights after seeing Kurt he didn’t try and make up scenes involving him, hoping they would influence his dream in some way. He won’t admit to that if someone would ever ask, though. 

He has to take the subway to reach where he lives, and as he makes it above ground once more, slightly out of breath from walking up those stairs (he either really needs to start going to the gym again or New York’s steps need to be smaller) he sees the run-down old newsagents with the ‘for sale’ sign slightly tilted as it always is in the front window. Sometimes he just gazes at it, just has to stop there on his way home and take a look inside, hands pressed against the glass as if he were a child looking into a sweet shop. Sure, it does need a lot of work; the flooring is in need of some serious refurbishment and the walls ( the white paint is now crumbling off, leaving little bits of wooden panelling in its place) are in desperate need of painting (possibly a blue or grey colour and then adorned with some tasteful prints - Blaine has written that in his notebook when he got just a little  _ too _ ambitious for the future), but Blaine can really see its potential. 

He dreams of waking up early in the morning, taking the quick walk down from his flat and prepping the orders and stocking the food cabinets (there will be numerous displays of pastries and cakes and yum yums, all of the different flavours - through his degree he’s learning about baking and other things along those lines, and has always had a good practice in making patisseries and sweet treats - not to mention the fact that he can make an excellent coffee), and then when the customers start to pour in (he wants the atmosphere to be friendly - warming for those in need of a chat; for those who are lonely; for those who don’t have somewhere safe to be on a rainy day) he’ll talk to them and serve them coffee - his latte art will be perfected, and if someone asks for a drawing of a witch’s hat on their latte at Halloween, (it has happened before) he will provide them with a drawing of a witch’s hat on their latte at Halloween.

It’s his dream, apart from everything else he dreams of - the main part of that is just having a boyfriend, but nonetheless - he just wants to experience it himself, and he wants to be in charge of his own thing and choose the foods on the menu and create a safe haven for those in need of a coffee. And maybe some advice here and there - hopefully he’ll be good at that when the time comes. 

Blaine sighs, and moves on, walking the few blocks down to his apartment block - the sun is ever-setting, and he sees as lights continue to turn on as he walks. His flat is only less than a block away, and as he walks he feels so much more optimistic about the whole ‘cafe’ situation; he wants to start brainstorming names. He’s so close in his savings, god, he’s so, so close, and he just wants it so much. He’s rather surprised, if he is being honest, though, that the cafe is still available, but he guesses in this certain part of New York, people aren’t really interested in owning a shop themselves. Things like these are just a chance of luck and coincidence. 

Finally, feet hurting from rubbing on the ankles of his Vans, he makes it home and sees across the hall, Tina lying on the sofa in her pyjamas as she watches an episode of  _ Queer Eye _ . Blaine drops his messenger bag onto the floor of the hallway, leaving it there randomly in the middle of it and kicking off his shoes, he flops down onto the sofa with her (well, as much as he can; there’s not that much space in the tiny room, although because Quinn has moved out Tina has taken her old room so there is some more space freed up there as there isn’t a massive bed in the corner of the living room). Neither of them speaks; Tina just pats Blaine’s head as it rests on her legs (she’s lying sideways and so is Blaine) and leaves it there, despite her hatred of the almost-plastic feel of Blaine’s hair with all that gel slathered onto it.

They lie there for a while, Blaine sighing as he watches Abby, a nineteen-year-old girl and activist, pick her favourite outfit that Tan has chosen for her. Normally, he would wish he could meet all of the Fab Five and just give them a big hug, but after this whole ‘Kurt’ situation turning out to be actually successful for once, he just watches the TV screen and doesn’t mope, doesn’t sigh like he usually does, just lies there and watches. He has to move his hand at one point to wipe the tears out of his eyes when Abby says that she finally feels pretty.

Blaine then thinks about how he’ll be able to tell Kurt how pretty he is very soon, and his heart  _ leaps _ .

When they get to the end of the episode, Blaine’s head is suddenly thrown off of Tina’s legs as she moves abruptly, sitting up and suddenly speaking with a rather assertive tone, much less relaxing than what they’ve just been witnessing for the past forty-five minutes, “Alright, what’s going on. I can practically feel your excitement radiating from your body.”

Inside, Blaine is a little stunned at how well Tina actually knows him; of course, they’re incredibly tight-knit, but ever since Quinn has lived with them it’s always like Blaine’s been comparing his friendship with Tina to the one he has with Quinn (which, now he looks back, is incredibly unfair; he’s only known Tina for three years but he’s known Quinn for basically all of his life, and to compare two friendships is completely unreasonable - everyone is different after all, and he loves Tina all the same). Now that Quinn is gone, yes, of course, he misses her, and of course, he feels her loss of presence more than ever, but he’s also realised the importance Tina has had on him. And it just shows so strongly right now, with her staring at him with that look on her face as if to say ‘tell me now or I will file a lawsuit against you’ and he can’t help the way his eyebrows raise, almost ecstatic at this point; all of these little things just keep coming together today and Blaine feels like he could fly. He’s very lucky to have the people he has in his life.

“I, um. I asked Kurt out. And he said yes, and we’re going on a date tonight.” He finally says, and he hears Tina’s screams before his eyes have fully processed what’s happening.

She’s jumping up and down manically whilst Blaine is just sitting there, still wearing his berry-pink Janice’s Coffee uniform, hands clasped tightly together and intertwined on his lap and the contrast there is as if he’s somehow telepathically transferred his excitement into Tina, but then she’s pulling his hands apart and he’s feeling manic again, jumping up and down with her in excitement as they’re holding hands between them, and then Blaine is pulling her into a hug and they’re just kind of standing there, swaying awkwardly and giggling with joy every few seconds or so.

“Oh my god, Blaine, that’s— that’s amazing!” Tina cries, pulling back from their hug, slightly more calmed down and Blaine’s cheeks are heated and rosy, and really, his whole face feels hot; it must all be red.

“I— I know,” Blaine breathes, and he’s pretty sure it’s all just suddenly processed in his head - wow, he’s going on a date tonight, “oh god, I’m going on a date tonight.”

Tina squeals, “Blaine, this is perfect! Well, maybe not completely perfect; maybe you shouldn’t have sat with me watching that episode of Queer Eye but—” and before Blaine knows it she’s cutting off her own sentence, and instead, grabbing his hand and guiding him into her (well, it used to be Quinn’s, and some of her things remain there, but the point still stands) bedroom, opening one of the drawers on her dresser slash desk and pulls out a makeup bag, plonking Blaine onto the end of her bed. 

“Oh god— no, this is not— you are not doing this—” Blaine starts, but Tina’s already pulling out various bottles of what Blaine assumes to be concealer and other various products for hiding your ‘true complexion’ or whatever.

“Blaine, this is your dream man—”

“He’s _ not _ my dream man.”

“He is - you said!”

“I did not!”

“You did, remember that time you were eating your cereal?”

“I have never—” Blaine tries to rack his brain for all the times in his life since Kurt’s appearance that he has eaten cereal, but none of them springs to mind; it’s probably because he’s hardly awake when he eats breakfast and it’s a rather minor part of his day - he usually spends it daydreaming and—

“Daydreaming, Blaine.” Tina clarifies because she can see Blaine’s confusion as he frowns, looking down at the floor.

Of course. The daydreaming. 

It really has happened a lot more ever since he first saw Kurt enter Janice’s. Maybe he’s romanticising his life too much or he’s just way too hopeful and optimistic, but he just can’t help the daydreaming. It’s like he’s turned into Walter Mitty… 

Blaine doesn’t really understand why it’s all that bad, though, because bunches of high school girls do it in movies all the time - and it’s usually about their crush or something like that - and then at the end of the film, the girl and their crush end up together and in love. So if Blaine is going to spend his spare time thinking about Kurt, then that’s how it shall be, and maybe wishful thinking is the best thing with these scenarios. 

He sighs, “Whatever,” and he’s already dodging out the way because she’s trying to force some sort of beauty product onto his face - he honestly has no idea what it is but it looks very cold and uncomfortable, and wait—

“I need a shower!” He announces, and darts away from her hold and runs towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut and ignoring Tina’s ‘Blaine!’ of disapproval, suddenly very aware of the lack of time he has - he really shouldn’t have wasted it watching Tan France dress Abby up in that beautiful navy dress, and those  _ earrings, _ god, she did look so beautiful— anyway. As he turns on the tap and waits for it to heat up (it takes  _ ages _ for it to heat up), he tries to bicker with himself as to why he did just spent the last hour not getting ready at all, but maybe _ Queer Eye  _ will help with his calm - it’s always soothing, and the _ Fab Five _ really do give good advice, and Blaine needs to be cool for this date to go well.

Or… does he? 

He’s really not sure how to act anymore, because on text everything is so much easier (honestly, last night they really did stay up until the early hours of the morning discussing how the hell Kurt is going to be able to get an army of rats out of his flat, and Blaine basically spent the whole time throwing rat-related puns at him through his reassurance, and none of it felt awkward or inarticulate), but when they’re face to face it’s like Kurt’s just this beautiful, handsome stranger again, and Blaine’s knowledge of the English Language in its entirety has been completely forgotten, as he spills out words and sentences that make hardly any sense, and then forgets what he wants to say completely.

(Well, normally the question hanging on his lips is whether Kurt would like to grab coffee sometime or go on a date, but as Blaine finally steps into the shower and starts lathering his skin in soap, he realises that he doesn’t have to think about that anymore, because in… oh god it’s three hour’s time now… he’s going to be doing that with Kurt. Or something like that. The whole description of this impending date has been very vague so far, and Blaine might just not make it home alive by the end of the night).

(He’s slightly disturbed by the fact that thinking of Kurt as a serial killer is kind of hot).

The soap he’s using is coconut scented - it’s probably Tina’s, but it just smells divine, and that’s how Blaine does want to smell - divine - rather than of the strong scent of coffee and caramel syrup (Rachel spilt it all over the countertops after Kurt left - she argued it was out of sheer excitement for him, and then refused to tidy it up, so Blaine spent half an hour scrubbing sticky syrup off of Mr Lamouri’s pink wooden countertops), not that syrup doesn’t smell amazing, but it’s just rather sweet and unnatural and coconut is a very beautiful scent, he thinks. He always smells of coffee, though, so there’s probably no hope in trying to get it out of his skin; he is always trying to, but he tries extra hard for Kurt. It probably won’t work, but it’s worth a go. It’s better to smell of coffee mixed with a slight hint of coconut rather than a Starbucks frappuccino. 

He uses a normal sort of shampoo for his hair - just that shampoo-ish sort of scent, because even though it would be nice to smell of  _ not coffee _ for once, he doesn’t want to suddenly  _ be _ a coconut - tries not to overpower it too much. He’s probably thinking too deeply about this, once again. 

Blaine hears Tina’s voice from outside the locked door, “At least let me help you choose an outfit?” she says, voice raised slightly so she can hear him through it (not that that’s really an issue - the walls in this apartment are so thin the whole point of having them is basically defeated).

Stepping out the shower, Blaine calls, a little fed up, “Fine,” and grabs the towel from the heating rack and wraps it around himself, opens the door, surprised when he sees that Tina is still standing there, an excited smile on her face, and Blaine can’t help but laugh lightly.

“Do you think you could, like, not style your hair with so much gel?” Tina asks hopefully as she follows him into his room, jumping up onto his bed and crossing her legs, averting her eyes as Blaine drops his towel (honestly, they crossed the ‘naked’ border within the first week of living together, and Blaine’s just too eager about this date right now to really care, but appreciates Tina’s consideration of her privacy). 

“Nope,” Blaine says, putting on some boxers and a clinging white vest, “it’s the first date, Tina. Not a honeymoon. He’s not seen me without gel. It would just be— weird. And I don’t even know how to control my h—”

“Fine, use gel then. Now come on, let me help you with your outfit!” Tina chuckles, “Are we going for a polo shirt or… waistcoat? Or corduroy? What are we thinking?”

Blaine cocks his head to the side at Tina, smiling at her lovingly. If this was anyone else, he’d probably find this whole ‘outfit planning’ thing incredibly annoying, but Tina’s always been good at this - reminds Blaine of Kurt - she can sew and has always had a good eye for fashion (well, maybe not now - she’s dressed in her unicorn pyjama bottoms and a v-neck vest top, but it’s the evening, so that’s completely acceptable. Or at least that’s what Tina has told him many times).

After at least five outfit changes, Blaine settles on some simple black jeans, a white short-sleeved shirt and a knitted blue waistcoat, and smiles to himself as he looks in the mirror, despite the argument he just got into with Tina about whether or not to pair the outfit with a bowtie (obviously, he voted for, but Tina was very much against the whole idea); he looks smart, and confident (apparently - that’s just what Tina is telling him as he turns around to see how well these skinny jeans sculpt his ass, like,  _ damn)  _ but confident is the exact opposite to what he feels. He decides it’s better to try and convince himself that he _ is  _ actually feeling good about this whole thing, rather than just going with his mindset of ‘oh god you’re going to mess this up straight away’. Positive attracts positive. Right?

Blaine turns to Tina, who’s still sitting on the bed, practically glowing, all her teeth showing behind her smile as if she’s more excited than Blaine (she probably is - now all Blaine feels is nervous), and says, “I think I’m ready.”

“Blaine!” Tina coos, then checks her phone, “Actually, you’ve still got an hour and a half until you have to leave, so…”

There’s still nervousness in his veins, Blaine can feel it, but the extra time does help a little as he collapses on the bed, “I  _ really _ want this to work.” he sighs, arms lifting then dropping further either side of him.

Tina smiles, and Blaine can hear the way she breathes a little harder through her nose; a little chuckle, and reassures him, “You will, Blaine. You deserve it. I know you’ll be amazing.” 

Blaine turns his head and looks up at her, “I just—” he cuts himself off and sighs, “this means so much to me. And going on dates and relationship-y stuff just reminds me of that time when I was eleven, and my grandmother tried to teach me how to cook her signature adobo and even though I was like, a budding chef and everything, and I did know how to cook a few things… it just wasn’t as good as hers. And then she got offended because it was like I didn’t follow her recipe correctly and—” he puts his hands to his forehead, trying to hide himself because opening up like this is shitty, and scary, and it’s something Blaine _hates,_ “this thing with Kurt - I just… I don’t want to get all my hopes up and then suddenly be let down again, or just— think I’m doing everything right but then actually, in reality, everything is _wrong.”_

He takes his hands away from his face, and when he sees Tina again, she’s sitting there and looking down at him with an even sort of smile; slightly sad and fair, like she’s evaluating everything he’s just spilled at her - maybe it was a little _ too _ much - before she observes, “This is more than just the adobo, isn’t it?” and Blaine has to let out a little laugh because yes, this is more than his gran’s adobo. 

However much he tries to convince himself that it didn’t, the whole Nathaniel situation hurt him. Of course, it wasn’t really Nathaniel’s fault - it was mainly Blaine getting his hopes too high once more just to be let down again, and okay, maybe Nathaniel did have a little bit of the blame, because the last time Blaine checked, asking to go ‘some place nice’ for lunch meant more than just two friends hanging out together, and they went to Central Park, for god’s sake. That’s like… the most cliche place to go on a date in New York,  _ ever. _

(Not that Blaine didn’t appreciate it - the two scoops of chocolate and pistachio ice cream with a flake he had were delicious, and he did actually write the little venue down so he could taste their glorious delights once more, but that’s besides the point).

He can’t even be mad about Nathaniel. Blaine has no right to be mad about Nathaniel; that’s just completely unfair - since Nathaniel said himself: He’s never (and never will) kiss a boy in his life. He said that to Blaine’s face, after Blaine tried to kiss some of that strawberry ice cream off his lips. It was not an ideal moment.

And Blaine really doesn’t have any right to be mad at Nathaniel at all, not when he doesn’t even know his last name or anything else about him, apart from the fact that he grew up in Chicago and learned to skateboard when he was eight. But that didn’t stop Blaine from making up those silly scenarios with Nathaniel in his head before he went to sleep at night, hoping that the story he made would continue into his dreams. Which is kind of ironic when he thinks about it now, because that’s as far as their ‘romance’ was ever going to get, and fine, Blaine definitely  _ is _ petty about Nathaniel.

He just gets too eager and hopeful. Every. Single. Time. 

That was last year - six months ago, in July, and the fact that he had his hopes up so high and was already dreaming up scenarios with that random guy just further lets him down once the truth finally comes out. It’s either ‘I’m straight’, or ‘I didn’t think this was actually a thing?’, or ‘last night was fun, but I’ve gotta go’, and never ‘I’m falling in love with you’, or ‘I was too scared to tell you; I thought you didn’t like me back’, or ‘stay with me?’ like it is in the movies. It’s always Blaine breathing in too much and then all the air being pushed out of his lungs, just from a few heartless words. 

“He likes you, Blaine.” Tina says again, and Blaine’s kind of lost in his own world of self-pity when she does speak, but hears her all the same; it’s just a little muffled, and he looks at her, eyes wider and almost puppy-like as he has to raise his brows to meet his gaze, “I have a good feeling about him. And the way that you keep on smiling at your phone? That’s meant to be.”

“‘Meant to be’ might be a bit of an overstatement…”

“Don’t think like that. Kurt likes you - last night I heard you laughing at your phone at god knows what hour in the morning. People who don’t care wouldn’t do that to someone. He. Likes. You.” Tina grins, “Stop denying it.”

Blaine’s about to reply when there’s that tell-tale ping from his phone on the bedside table, and  _ oh god _ that’s Kurt sending him a message.

**Kurt:** you can meet me at mine in an hour, here’s my address !! don’t ask about what’s happening after - it’s a surprise ;)

**Blaine:** This is all very mysterious… 

**Kurt:** all part of my devious plan :)

**Blaine:** Look who’s using smiley faces now! 

**Kurt:** ahhhh, you got me… 

Everything is going to be fine.

  
  


*

Everything is most definitely  _ not _ fine.

Blaine doesn’t remember the last time he’s sweated this much out of sheer nerves, and he’s had to undo the top button of his shirt because he feels like he can’t  _ breathe. _

He stands outside Kurt’s apartment door (which is a very nice door, in fact - it’s painted dark green with a lovely vintage doorknob, then with little details carved into the wood, and Blaine wonders what his apartment must look like on the inside if the door looks so beautiful. He’s probably thinking too deeply into this as a distraction, but he decides it’s better to appreciate the intricacies of your date’s door rather than having a panic attack over the date himself). He hasn’t knocked yet; even the entrance itself seems somewhat menacing - a sign of the future and possibilities yet to come, and Blaine is still trying to get this into the mindset of everything seeming fine, when everything is completely the opposite of fine.

The sound of a beeping from his phone makes Blaine’s head turn to his pocket and see a message from Kurt. 

**Kurt:** i can see u standing outside the door,,,, you ok ??

**Blaine:** I’m nervous. Are you nervous?

**Kurt:** a little

**Kurt:** you’re cute when you’re nervous <3

Before Blaine can even respond or knock on the door, eyes wide and mouth opened in shock from the message, the clicking sound of the latch being opened comes from inside the apartment and suddenly the green door is opening, and then Kurt is standing in front of him, a little out of breath (Blaine guesses that he was rushing to get ready - Kurt always tells him how he normally finishes his work off at home, and must’ve ran out of time) and so,  _ so _ beautiful.

“...Hi.” Blaine breathes, a small smile showing on his face, and Kurt looks back at him with the same expression. 

“Hey.”

“You look— you look very… handsome,” Blaine says after a moment, because that’s what people say on dates, and Blaine’s always been a truthful man, and Kurt really does look beautiful, although the nerves keep on making him stumble over his words. 

He’s dressed in some beige plaid trousers with a thin, brown belt and a white, long sleeved dress shirt, paired with a large pea coat to keep warm. He really does look fabulous. Smart, handsome and sophisticated. 

Blaine’s seen a lot of his outfits before - he’s come into Janice’s quite a few times - but this is definitely his favourite, as his eyes flit up and down his well-built body, notices the way the shirt clings tightly to his chest, outlining his broad shoulders and slim waist. And then those long, graceful legs that are just to die for. He’s very aware that the way he’s describing Kurt in his head is like something off of a menu, but really, Kurt looks  _ delicious. _

Kurt nods, “you too,” and it’s a little awkward, but even just hearing that makes Blaine’s heart warm.

“So, where are we going?”

“I told you, it’s a secret!” Kurt exclaims, then he’s tugging on Blaine’s hand all of a sudden, and  _ oh my god _ he’s holding my hand, and Kurt is dragging Blaine down the steep flight of stairs onto the streets of New York, now completely dark and neon lights glowing through the bustle of the city, still alive, always moving.

They have to take the subway to get to wherever Kurt is planning to take them, and there’s awkward chuckles as they have to hurry into the carriage along with a lot of other hurried new yorkers, and have to squish right together so everyone fits in. This moment makes Blaine realise the height difference between them, and he looks up at Kurt who’s just that little bit taller than him, and realises how he could easily fit his head into the side of Kurt’s neck, just where the bottom of it meets his shoulder. His mind jumps back to his fantasies of dancing with the one he loves on the evening of Christmas, hands interlocked, raised at Blaine’s right and clasping onto his boyfriend’s waist, soothed by Ella Fitzgerald’s smooth voice weaving between their swaying bodies, moving as one around the room. Then Blaine thinks of Kurt, and puts Kurt into that whole daydream, and suddenly everything feels much too real that Blaine can hardly get his head around it all. Even thinking about the word ‘boyfriend’ then associating it with Kurt seems incredibly far-fetched.

Then Kurt is taking his hand once again, jolting Blaine out of his woes, and they’re moving out of the subway and back into the real world again, above ground and temperatures freezing. Blaine tries hard not to think about how his hand feels in Kurt’s.

Blaine realises they’re in Manhattan, and asks again, “Where are we going?” but Kurt just turns around from where he’s leading Blaine, that cheeky little smile on his face, and Blaine can see he’s not going to get any answers.

They walk for a while, grabbing hot chocolate from a stand on their way - a little method of trying to warm themselves up without making anything too awkward, not saying anything and both parties just enjoying the way each other’s hands feel together. Blaine will never not be amazed by the beauty of Manhattan; it’s towering skyscrapers and busy people with stories and lives and places to go. He’ll never forget the first time he came to New York; the way the whole atmosphere felt so accepting of who he was - his ethnicity, his sexuality - and yes, New Yorkers may be incredibly rude, but you can never excuse the feeling of freedom that this beautiful city will always offer.

“This is it - Brooklyn Bridge,” Kurt claims after a little while, and soon they’re making their way up onto it, and…  _ wow. _

It’s probably a basic place to go on a date, but as Blaine feels the firm grip of Kurt’s hand still in his, that soft skin warming his fingers, and sees the way the lights of the bridge light up his face - cheekbones defined by warm yellow and breath whispering out into the atmosphere - it feels like something entirely new. 

“This is… amazing.” Blaine says eventually, and they find their spot overlooking the East River, right in the middle, looking out to see the gap between Brooklyn and Manhattan, and he looks at Kurt, who’s already looking back at him. Blaine tries not to say something stupid like ‘you’re amazing’, and instead just blushes a little, heat warming from his cheeks and looks down with a small smile, seeing Kurt’s black Doc Martens and his measly navy blue Vans - basically the only shoes he has at the moment.

“Have you ever read  _ The Great Gatsby?” _ Kurt asks after a little chuckle at Blaine’s embarrassment, and Blaine just shakes his head, “F. Scott Fitzgerald - the author - he wrote in it that  _ ‘the city seen from the Queensboro Bridge is always the city seen for the first time’  _ and even though this is… the wrong bridge, I like to think that about Brooklyn Bridge. It’s just— the divide of the river, it’s like you can see the difference of two whole civilisations, like… like Romeo and Juliet. I don’t know. It’s just— the lights are pretty, too.”

He does that thing that people do when they’ve let out too much information, and drops his head, eyes focusing on his arms that are resting on the railings like they’re incredibly interesting. 

Blaine says, “The way you talk is beautiful.” And Kurt looks up at him, and Blaine swears he sees Kurt’s eyes dropping down to Blaine’s lips for a second. Kurt chuckles softly, and he can’t hide his smile, that perfect smile that Blaine has come to really enjoy seeing on his face.

Kurt quips, “The Great Gatsby is basically the only piece of classic literature I’ve ever read, so I like to reference it as much as I can.” and then Blaine laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard, and his heart beats a little faster in his chest, a little embarrassed at himself for being so loud in such a perfect, calm moment. 

“I haven’t read enough classic novels,” Blaine says, “basically my whole life I’ve been focused on getting this cafe and learning about food and cooking and stuff - I was more of a… ‘chef worm’ than a bookworm.” and Kurt laughs at his joke, and if that isn’t the best thing that’s happened to him, above everything else—

“You deserve your own cafe. You make the best coffee.” Kurt replies, head tilting to the side and smile wide on his face before he takes another warm sip of his hot chocolate, and that makes Blaine actually aware of his hot chocolate in his hand; he’s been more focused on Kurt and his face and all the lights rather than anything else, so he takes a sip from his own, too.

There’s a moment when they don’t say anything - they just look at each other, sipping their hot chocolates, neither of them really aware of the other people passing by them but just focusing on each others faces; Blaine examines Kurt’s blue eyes and his angel nose and soft cheeks - the way the light just frames it so beautifully, and then he’s cupping his cheek, heart beating a million miles a minute, and then Kurt surges up towards him, and their lips meet.

It’s soft, and simple, and much too short, but Blaine’s eyes close, and his hand (still cold, warmed by Kurt’s face) trails down to his shoulder just before they break again, but then Kurt moves in once more, and then it’s just little chaste kisses over and over. Finally though, they stop, and pull back, and Blaine looks up at Kurt, slightly surprised and a little dazed, and sees the big smile on his face.

“I really like you,” He says.

“I really like you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is such a beautiful lil quote.... it was helpful because I wanted to explain blaine's dating backstory a little,,,,, and I think it describes him in this verse pretty well :)


	8. Valentine by Wendy Cope

**Valentine by Wendy Cope**

_ "My heart has made its mind up _

_ And I'm afraid it's you. _

_ Whatever you've got lined up, _

_ My heart has made its mind up _

_ And if you can't be signed up _

_ This year, next year will do. _

_ My heart has made its mind up _

_ And I'm afraid it's you." _

  
  


*

  
  


The next few weeks pass Blaine in a whizz, blurred moments of coffee and Kurt and more coffee and kissing Kurt and Rachel bitching about her classmates and steaming milk and more kissing Kurt on coffee flavoured lips.

And today is Valentine’s Day.

It’s probably the best Valentine’s Day that Blaine will ever have.

He and Kurt aren’t official yet - which, when Blaine called Quinn and updated her on everything that was happening (she’s been so busy lately with wedding planning that they haven’t met up since she moved out, really, and Blaine misses her like crazy), she said it was unsurprising how slow they’re moving - noting how it did take Blaine nearly a whole month just to build up the courage to ask Kurt out in the first place, and Blaine understands. He still feels like he’s treading on thin ice - maybe not even ice; maybe the water that he’s walking on is actually just covered in lily pads and he’s hopping precariously from one to another, trying to not hurt any of the frogs or water lilies in the pond as he goes (the poor, poor frogs; Blaine’s so fragile from all the emotions at the moment he could literally cry at his own made-up metaphor). He shouldn’t feel that way, he knows he shouldn’t because every time there’s a soft touch of a fingertip from Kurt to his face or jaw or hands, Blaine’s eyes have to close, and he’s overcome with peace and warmth; it’s like Kurt’s softness spreads into his whole body, right into his soul, like his mind knew something the rest of him didn’t initially. You don’t get that with a random person. 

So really, Blaine shouldn’t feel like he’s hopping on lily pads. Because Kurt is with him now and he’s warm and safe and beautiful, and Blaine feels calm when he’s with him. But he just doesn’t know where the boundaries lie, because both of them must feel this way if neither of them has even asked about what their relationship _ is _ yet.

Blaine mumbled something about it to Mr Lamouri (it’s what he usually does with him when he’s in search of advice from the man; doesn’t fully articulate his problem to him but it’s usually a successful method, what with Mr Lamouri being such a good listener; he may not say many words, but he listens so  _ well) _ and Mr Lamouri just replied with another  _ Friends  _ reference - the one where Ross freaks out about the status of his and Mona’s relationship and ends up giving her the key to his apartment, then some wise words about having a talk with Kurt about it and not going too far, or something along those lines. 

He still hasn’t talked to Kurt about it, but that’s okay. Because they’re moving slowly, and he’s happy, and he’s pretty sure Kurt’s happy, and he just feels… complete.

He remembers their third date - Kurt picked again because Blaine chose the second time - they went to this old-school style cinema with sofas and ate caramel popcorn (it was incredibly overpriced, but the excitement of it all distracted Blaine quite a significant amount from his bank balance), and every time Kurt went to comment something about the movie they were watching (Little Women, starring Saoirse Ronan - Blaine’s found that they share the same interest of romance films) there would be a moment where they’d just look into each other’s eyes and Blaine’s mind would just fill with the memory of Kurt’s lips, wishing for the touch of Kurt’s fingers against his skin. At that point, they hadn’t really gone further than just little kisses; some longer than others and hands travelling up and down arms, both a little scared for the future and going too far. There had been nothing further than that (not that Blaine hadn’t thought about it, but what he’s discovered from this past couple of months is that what you dream up in your head is completely separate from reality; they’re two different universes, all with different rules and emotions).

But then there was so much tension during that trip to the cinema and when Kurt asked “Do you wanna come back to mine?” with his eyebrows raised suggestively with that cheeky smirk on his face, Blaine found himself having a rather large amount of difficulty with declining the offer. Half an hour later, they were lying on Kurt’s tiny, green velvet sofa with hardly any space between them, Kurt on top and pressing fast and heated kisses to Blaine’s lips, and Blaine feeling a little guilty that he still felt like he didn’t really  _ know _ enough about Kurt yet.

“Tell me more about yourself,” He breathed between kisses, smiling again when Kurt’s lips met his, thinking about the way they both slotted together so perfectly, and couldn’t stifle his soft chuckle when he heard Kurt groan for a short moment as Blaine’s hands untucked his shirt from his incredibly skinny jeans, trailing underneath and up the skin of his back.

“Well,” Kurt said after a brief moment of short kisses, pulling back momentarily to speak and then diving in again to repeat his previous actions, “Um, ah—” he groaned when Blaine moved to his jawline, “my name is  _ ah— _ Kurt Hummel, I’m _ — _ twenty-two, I… grew up with my dad, in Connecticut,” then stopped again as he met Blaine’s lips once more, pulling off to speak again, “I came out when I was seventeen, um,” he breathed, voice getting quicker as Blaine kept kissing him faster, “been in one relationship before but it— oh— it didn’t really count.” He stopped again, focusing back on Blaine’s tantalizing movements, letting out a short noise when Blaine mumbled a little “Oh yeah?” and Kurt said quickly, “Yeah, he was a total douchebag,” and then kissed his mouth, before pulling back to say, “plus, he wore clothes from H&M.” 

“Um, what’s— wrong with H&M?” Blaine said, thinking of that NASA hoodie he had back at his apartment hidden away neatly in his wardrobe, only for special emergencies. He then kissed Kurt some more before Kurt responded with, “I don’t like fast fashion. Plus, the quality isn’t even  _ good.” _

“Oh,” Blaine hummed, half out of observation but mostly because Kurt had started sucking at his neck, and his mind basically switched off after that.

They didn’t really go any further though; still haven’t crossed that border yet, and _ oh god _ it reminds Blaine of his very short-lived relationship with Jackson in high school; nervous hands and  _ when I kiss you am I allowed to put my hands on your face or are you not okay with that _ , but Kurt is definitely not the same as Jackson - he’s not arrogant or uncaring; in fact, he’s the complete opposite of that - Blaine’s aware. But the way they touch it’s like Blaine’s seventeen again because everything is uncertain and  _ how far should we go are you okay with this;  _ the only contrast is that Blaine’s a little more knowledgeable when it comes to this subject now than he was four years ago. 

It still doesn’t change the fact that Blaine doesn’t keep thinking about… going further. He thinks about it… probably a little too much. He just wants to respect Kurt too.

And he is making this sound bigger than it really is. To be completely honest, everything is actually amazing. Kurt is the kindest, most handsomest, smartest, cutest man he’s ever met. And when he smiles, it’s like something has changed for Blaine because suddenly he sees the world completely differently; somehow there’s hope, and this time it’s actually believable rather than him just finding another way to romanticise his life entirely; somehow Blaine has faith that everything will work out, that there won’t be a prick running the country and he’ll get his cafe and for once in his life will feel  _ happy  _ in general, that his happiness and motivation won’t rely on one single thing because everything in the world will be  _ better. _

“Mr Lamouri, do you ever think how effective it would be if you incorporated some music into this cafe? Preferably… musical theatre?  _ Funny Girl?” _

Blaine looks up from the sink where he’s drying up the cups, turning around the corner of the separating wall between the kitchen and the front lobby, and sees Rachel - hair up in a ponytail and authoritative look on her face; the one she does when she wants to get an answer out of someone or when she’s about to start one of her long-winded lectures. 

Blaine smiles, partly because it’s just such a Rachel thing to say, and also he knows that Mr Lamouri will definitely say no, which will lead to him being trapped in a very long conversation with Rachel about how Barbara Streisand changed the entire idea of musicals with her starring role as Fanny Brice in  _ Funny Girl.  _ It’s something she likes to talk about a lot; Blaine’s probably heard her reasonings at least three times before and could probably repeat most of her speech by now.

“Don’t even answer that, Mr Lamouri. There will be no escape from Rachel otherwise,” Blaine says, head still poking from around the corner. 

Mr Lamouri just hums quickly and nods, before responding with a rather dismissive “I cannot deal with this today.” and going back to his job refilling the cake cabinet, leaving Rachel staring at him, absolutely shocked. 

Blaine just chuckles softly, then goes back to washing up - their dishwasher system leaves much to be desired - they only have a ‘steriliser’ which means he has to use the sink to wash up the plates and cups before he puts them in there - a rather annoying part of owning a cafe, he thinks.

He keeps working for another twenty minutes, and in that time he attempts to sing the entire first _High School Musical_ soundtrack in his head, starting with ‘Start of Something New’ - which is very fitting for his current relationship with Kurt, and then he’s filled with an extra ambush of happiness, and he tries not to sing Troy’s accompaniment out loud when it gets to the bit where Gabriella sings _‘and the world looks so much brighter with you by my side’_ and soon he’s kind of awkwardly swaying and jumping along to the music as he scrubs a small plate in circular motions, and another moment he actually _turns -_ thinking about how, yeah, the world does feel brighter when Kurt is by his side. He sighs, wants to _swoon,_ even - everything is just so new and beautiful and perfect, Blaine and Kurt (and _oh_ how good his and Kurt’s name sound together) just _all in this together,_ _breaking free, bopping to the top, getting their heads in the game—_ okay, fine. You get the picture.

_ ‘Yeah we’re gonna bop bop bop, bop to the top…’ _

Blaine thinks about him and Kurt starting out small but with big dreams, about his job as a barista but dreaming of a cafe of his own, about Kurt’s job as assistant garment manufacturer - which Kurt says sounds fancy but is really just working as a minion for the senior designers and making all their designs for them in order to complete upcoming fashion shows. He thinks about how Kurt dreams of owning a fashion business of his own - something he told Blaine before they fell asleep on the couch together a few days ago watching  _ The Devil Wears Prada, _ fingers interlocked on Kurt’s hip, spoken lazily and a little slurred, Blaine’s chest pressed into Kurt’s back. He smiles at the memory.

Finally finished with the dishwashing and closing the door to the steriliser, Blaine walked around the corner to the front lobby, and the smile on his face widens as he sees Kurt standing there with that grin on his face like he’s hiding something and Blaine never knows what to expect with Kurt because Kurt is just this beautiful, mystical human being and just too unpredictable for Blaine to ever know what will happen next.

“Hello there Mr Anderson,” Kurt says, those flirty eyes crinkling, and Blaine swallows. He doesn’t notice the way Mr Lamouri goes to grab some cleaning spray and starts scrubbing the counter behind Blaine like he’s never done anything more fascinating or the way Rachel creeps around the back to give them some privacy; he’s just focused on Kurt, Kurt is  _ here,  _ and it’s Valentine’s Day and everything is perfect.

“Kurt Hummel,” Blaine says back, “how nice it is to see you here.” 

“You too.” Kurt swallows a little, continuing with his sudden well-spoken facade, “are you aware what day it is?” he asks, and smiles, but not just enough to show his teeth - mouth closed and hidden.

“I am somewhat aware, yes.”

“Well,” Kurt sighs over-dramatically, “If you weren’t fully aware, today is Valentine’s Day. Which means I have a gift for you.” 

Blaine’s heart jumps, says, “Me too.” and he’s kind of amazed at himself that he did remember he got something because Kurt is just so _ intriguing _ it’s so hard to not be so focused on him.

Kurt smiles, and Blaine and can see on his face the change in demeanour; now it’s just sweet and wholesome in contrast to the ‘hey stranger’ thing he had going on a couple of seconds ago, and he speaks, ruffling through his messenger bag for Blaine’s present.

“Um, it’s— in here somewhere, hang on…”

Blaine waits, and watches, and his heart is warm but also jumping frantically at the same time; it’s like a weird mix between anxious and smitten, excited and overjoyed, and he feels every emotion simultaneously.

“Got it!” Kurt finally exclaims, and pulls out a piece of fabric - Blaine sees quickly but only gets a glimpse of it as Kurt hides it in his hands and commands, “Close your eyes, and open your hands,” and Blaine feels like he’s listening to his mom on his eleventh birthday.

He does so, and soon he feels the unmistakable brush of Kurt’s fingers in his palms - only for a second and then they’re gone again. Then he feels that same fabric, cotton, he thinks, and opens his eyes to see a red bowtie - butterfly shape, with tiny little faded pink polka dots decorated in neat lines along with the fabric.

“I… made it. For you.” Kurt says, a little hesitant, eyes unsure and brows slightly raised, waiting for Blaine’s reaction.

He doesn’t really… react, though, because he’s a little dumbstruck; this man standing in front of him is amazing and so talented, and he’s made Blaine a bowtie, and Blaine still just can’t believe he’s  _ real. _

And the words basically fall out of his mouth as he thinks them, “You’re amazing. This is— wow.”

“You like it?”

Blaine laughs surprisedly, “I am— amazed by you. I love it. You’re amazing. Thank you.” and it’s like all the words have come out at once, because after he finishes Kurt is laughing, loud and unhinged, and Blaine says, “I um— I have something for you too.”

Kurt’s eyebrows raise in a little ‘oh’ and before he knows it Blaine is whizzing round the back of the cafe, going into one of the cupboards where he was keeping Kurt’s present and taking it, shouting as he walks back over to him, “Close your eyes now!” and Kurt does, and Blaine places the object in his hands. 

When Kurt opens them, Blaine’s a little embarrassed at his reaction because there hardly is one to look at; Kurt’s kind of just staring at the metal contraption as if it’s completely alien to him, which makes no sense in Blaine’s brain because hasn’t everyone seen a milk frother before? But then he remembers, actually, no, there probably actually are people in this world who don’t know what a milk frother is, and maybe, Blaine, the fact that you’re a barista is making this an unfair judgement.

Kurt asks, “Wow! Um… may I ask what this does?” he says, and his head cocks to the side and his eyes wince a little - a mannerism Blaine’s come to realise as something he does when he’s trying to make a situation less awkward. 

“Oh!” Blaine smiles, trying to make their stance a little more casual, and kind of a little lost after staring at Kurt’s face for so long, “It’s a milk frother. So like, when you want to have froth on your coffee at home you can just add in some milk and it turns into froth!” 

Kurt doesn’t say anything, just stands there and smiles at him, but Blaine’s feeling sort of overwhelmed and his heart is doing this weird buzzing thing so he just keeps talking.

“Um, if you just— I can give you a demonstration. Basically—” he takes the contraption out of Kurt’s hands, “you just put some milk in, and then you put the lid on, and then you just, um…” he starts pumping the little plunger up and down as an explanation, “pump it. Like, really hard, for a short amou—”

He’s interrupted by Kurt’s laughter and looks up from where his eyes are focused on the milk frother and suddenly realises the explicitness of the whole situation. “Sorry,” he says, and Kurt just laughs even harder; big, cackling cries now, and soon Blaine is laughing along with him, so hard he’s having to wipe his eyes and his stomach is starting to hurt.

“It’s just that—” Blaine’s cut off by more laughter, then tries to calm himself to continue speaking, “the first time you ordered with me,” little joyful sobs now, erupting out of his belly and he can’t control it, “you said you wanted extra froth so, um. Yeah, I got you this. For— all your frothy desires.” 

Ignoring the euphemism, Kurt says, very quietly and suddenly a little reserved, “Thank you. Really, I love it.” and suddenly he’s leaning over the pink counter and pressing a short peck to Blaine’s lips, and Blaine feels kind of— stunned.

It’s a very boyfriend-ish thing to do. It’s a very… loving thing to do, and Blaine’s not fully able to comprehend the value that that tiny kiss just held, and it’s only for a short second before he’s looking into Kurt’s eyes again. And he just so, so wants to ask him ‘be my boyfriend’ like it’s on the tip of his tongue but something is just stopping him from saying it.

Well, he isn’t going to ask. Because if Kurt said yes then that means their anniversary would be on Valentine’s Day and as much as Blaine appreciates this holiday, it’s incredibly cliche for his taste. And probably Kurt’s too.

He breathes in sharply, “Um— are you… do you want some coffee or—”

Kurt says quickly, “I… I should get going. But um,” his eyes hold something mystical, the way Blaine’s looking into them; he could look into them forever, “maybe you could come over? To mine? Tonight?”

Blaine’s brows heighten, “Oh! Yes, that would be amazing…” he trails off slightly, lost in thought before asking, “what time?”

“I mean, I want to spend as much time with you as I can…” Kurt hints, and it worries Blaine that there might be something  _ more _ hidden behind his words, “let’s say… six?” 

_ I want to spend as much time with you as I can. _

Blaine’s heart feels sort of crazy in his chest, and he’s nodding eagerly in agreement and says, “Yes! Um, I’ll— I’ll text you.” and then Kurt’s smiling at him again, picking up his milk frother and walking away from Blaine, eyes still focused on him as he nears the door as if he wants to memorise his face completely. 

When he’s gone, Blaine’s still staring at the door; there’s some sort of significance to it now, because every time he looks at it it’s like a sign of Kurt, Kurt in his life, entering his life all over again, kissing him hello then goodbye and  _ one cappuccino please  _ and all these little Kurt-flavoured things that just wiggle their way into Blaine’s brain daily. 

Rachel’s sidled up to Blaine from behind, and says mysteriously, “So, do you think this could be…  _ The Night?”  _ she hints, and Blaine turns to her and lets out a doubtful laugh.

“Come on, Rachel. Don’t say that. Me and Kurt are just… moving slowly.”

Rachel rolls her eyes, “Blaine, that’s completely fine, it’s just— haven’t you wanted to do  _ that  _ stuff?”

“I—” Blaine gapes at her, “well, yes, but—”

“Then you should do it! I saw the way he was looking at you, Blaine. That right there, is  _ chemistry.  _ As they say in show business.”

“I know what chemistry is, Rachel.”

“Fine! All I’m saying is, it’s taken you  _ weeks  _ to even get this far. It’s time you had some fun!”

Blaine just looks at her, lips a little widened, and says nothing. It’s not just about…  _ that, _ it’s about caring about Kurt, too. And he doesn’t want to make anything happen too fast if he doesn’t even know what they  _ are _ yet. 

These things take time.

  
  


*

He comes home that evening (he’s got about an hour until he needs to go to Kurt) to find Tina and Quinn in the kitchen, both chatting excitedly between themselves, eyebrows raised and squealing sounds every so often, and Blaine walks into the room, taking off his coat, rather confused at the whole situation. He’s confused because 1. Quinn is  _ here  _ and he hasn’t seen her for so long and she looks amazing, happy and blissful and it’s like there’s something new on her face - something exciting. He’s also confused because 2) they’re standing there like they’re hiding something, and in the past that’s never meant anything good. 

“Um, what’s all this?” Blaine asks, looking between them, and their heads pop up and Quinn’s suddenly smiling and exclaiming “Blaine!” and running into his arms like they’re long lost lovers, even though they talked on the phone yesterday evening.

“Hi, Quinn. Um, like I said, what’s going on?” 

Tina perks up from her spot by the counter, and Blaine, still hugging Quinn, hears the words, “We’ve— got some news.” 

Blaine unravels his arms from Quinn’s, and says, more serious and voice a little quieter, “What’s wrong?” but the way Tina is smiling is so hopeful that for a second, Blaine doubts that it’s bad news at all.

“It’s your cafe. You’ve got a letter from the bank. Blaine, you’ve got enough money!” 

For a moment everything seems sort of… still, and Blaine doesn’t really know how to react, because right there is his whole life goal, right there is everything he’s ever dreamed of, and everything feels kind of fuzzy and his heart is beating one hundred miles a minute and—

“Oh my— Oh my god! Tina!” He finally exclaims, and then he’s taking the letter from her hands and reading, and there’s the ‘ _ your savings have finally reached their target’  _ and oh god, this can’t be real. It can’t it can’t it can’t—

“I’m getting my cafe!” He cries, and then he’s scooping both Tina and Quinn up into his arms and laughing, because they’re both taller than him and his arms aren’t long enough and soon they’re just jumping around their tiny kitchen, clip-clops of Quinn’s heels on the floorboards.

Quinn just says, “I’m proud of you, honey!” and they keep jumping and laughing, and Blaine’s already trying to come up with cafe names in his head and his eyes are filling with tears of joy. 

And it finally occurs to him - he’s got it all, now. It’s Valentine’s Day, he’s going to Kurt’s later (screw the fact he doesn’t know what they are yet - all that matters is that they  _ care),  _ and he’s finally, hopefully, got his cafe.

And now everything really is coming up Blaine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of the first wendy cope poems I read :')))  
> anyway I'm too tired for a big old explanation right now so see ya next week


	9. Flowers by Wendy Cope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos would be appreciated!! hope you enjoy this chapter! :)<3

**Flowers by Wendy Cope**

_"Some men never think of it._

_You did. You’d come along_

_And say you’d nearly brought me flowers_

_But something had gone wrong._

_The shop was closed. Or you had doubts –_

_The sort that minds like ours_

_Dream up incessantly. You thought_

_I might not want your flowers._

_It made me smile and hug you then._

_Now I can only smile._

_But, look, the flowers you nearly brought_

_Have lasted all this while."_

  
  


*

The meeting with Kurt did, in fact, result in ‘The Night’. 

It was… sort of desperate. Fast - needy, almost - like there was something both of the boys had been needing to say but didn’t; the fear of being rejected; the fear of being hurt. 

But… it happened. And it was perfect. 

Blaine won’t think of it any more, because it’s far too intimate to actually think about, far too private to seem justified to think about it as he’s serving coffee; it’s not general enough. So instead, he thinks about the rest of the night. He thinks about how he told Kurt he’s got the money for his cafe, and how he’s going to be putting an offer down today. He remembers the way Kurt pulled him in across his sofa and kissed him quickly, arms around his neck - such simple affection Blaine could hardly breathe. And he loves long kisses, he loves that. But there’s something so domestic about a quick peck on the lips, so much said in so little time, something so every day. 

He thinks about the way Kurt was just so, so proud of him, remembers that smile on his face. Blaine knows (Kurt told him a few dates ago) that Kurt… isn’t very confident with his smile, and it hurts Blaine because he can see how beautiful he looks when he smiles, and sometimes he feels genuinely confused at how someone so _pretty_ can believe their smile looks so bad when in reality, Blaine thinks it’s one of the many things he likes… so much about Kurt. He won’t say adore. It’s too early for that. 

He thinks about the way that what he and Kurt have isn’t just about the sex, isn’t just for pleasure; it’s something more than that. Because for the past month or so that they’ve been dating, it’s been kindness and just being together and appreciation of one another, and finally they’ve taken that step together. It should all seem very high-school, but somehow it’s just kind of perfect.

Blaine likes the fact that they didn’t make Valentine’s Day anything too special. He likes dating, likes going to fancy restaurants and eating fancy meals and seeing all the sights. He really does. But there’s just something so perfect about going round to one another’s - Blaine had heard many a time from his grandmother about how much someone’s house describes a person - and he sees Kurt’s velvet sofa, sees the urban interior and eye for design - sees how much fashion and art and creativity means to him. There’s something so important about it - going to someone’s home - it reminds Blaine of love, of family, and new beginnings and hope. Being invited over to someone’s house in a relationship for something more than just sex means something and the fact that it was Kurt, _Kurt_ asking him fills Blaine’s heart with joy.

He won’t say ‘love’. It’s too early for that.

Every day though, seeing Kurt walk into Janice’s, seeing his smile, his face - there’s something about him. And suddenly, all of these other people Blaine has known and dated and sometimes even _loved_ mean nothing to him, because Kurt is there, smiling and laughing at his jokes, always always waiting for his next words, and Blaine hanging onto him, onto every reaction, and every time Kurt speaks it’s like he’s just trying to remember him from somewhere else, not like he’s knowing him for the first time.

Always remembering you, always thinking about you, always always wishing to see you. Just you, you, you. 

Blaine refuses to think about it anymore; he knows he can’t. He feels things too much; his feelings always happen fast before he’s even aware of them; he’s constantly running to try and catch up with how he feels, always trying to get his head around the sheer value of his emotions and how it impacts his life. It’s like he’s in a race with himself, and he’s so eager; so hopeful and optimistic and always believes things will end up fine.

It’s felt like that _more_ since he’s known Kurt.

 _So maybe that’s saying something,_ he thinks as he starts brewing coffee, sort of lost in his own world for a moment. 

Before he’s even aware of it, he’s drawing a love heart onto the latte he’s making for that sixty-something-year-old lady, who was obviously trying to flirt with him, and also said his bowtie was ‘very cute’, sending him a wink (which was an incredibly disturbing experience) and first he thinks, oh god, I’m going to look like I have some sort of admiration for this woman, and she’s going to be flattered and the whole situation will just be even _weirder,_ and also I really have got to stop thinking about love, I really really need to, oh god Blaine what is _wrong_ with you at the moment, you smitten little—

After debating whether to just throw the whole coffee away entirely and deciding against that idea (only because the lady is now looking quite angry with the amount of time he has seemed to take), he hands the latte to her (she’s still giving him a weird look and Blaine does wonder how she can’t see he’s gay - god, he’s wearing a fucking hot pink, plaid bowtie at age twenty-one and these old women still don’t realise he is definitely Not Straight) and notices the bell of the coffee shop ring again (he hears it so much the shrill sound is eternally ingrained in his mind) and notices… Jesse st James - for _fuck_ sake - entering Janice’s for the third time that week with the same cocky smile and stupid, _stupid_ walk that he always uses - god, he should just audition to be on a CW show already.

Blaine does not like Jesse. Jesse does not like Blaine. It’s as simple as that.

He remembers a few days ago - Jesse walking into the cafe like he always does, and actually asking him if he uses all that hair gel to hide his insecurities, and Blaine knew it was not a genuine question because of that damn smile; nothing nice or inviting about that smile at all. And then, to make matters even worse, Rachel actually laughed, and Blaine just sort of stood there like he couldn’t really comprehend what was happening. It’s not like he would’ve come up with a good comeback anyway because Jesse does actually have quite nice hair despite everything; doesn’t have to smother it in gel because it gets so fucking uncontrollable in the humidity, and Blaine is _not_ risking that. So instead, he didn’t say anything, and Rachel and Jesse were just _laughing,_ and then he just got working on brewing some espresso for Jesse’s americano, because _of course,_ he drinks americano, that little self-righteous dick that he is. 

(Blaine has found that people who order americanos or black coffee are usually incredibly full of themselves, and it’s usually because they think they’re so _important_ just because they drink coffee with hardly any milk.)

And fine, Kurt probably comes into Janice’s more than Jesse does, but Kurt’s allowed to do that. And Rachel likes Kurt, and Blaine obviously _really_ likes Kurt. So it’s fine for him to make his appearances. 

But Blaine is definitely _not_ partial to Jesse. Because Jesse is mean and rude and so, so incredibly full of himself, and Blaine really can’t seem to understand what Rachel sees in him. He also does not appreciate the fact that Rachel hasn’t even acknowledged how her boyfriend has basically been bullying Blaine in front of her face and she’s just smiled along and laughed. 

Blaine Anderson does _not_ like Jesse St James.

This doesn’t matter too much this time, though, because right now Jesse isn’t really saying anything, and Blaine is just pretending not to notice him. He keeps his eyes on the counter and starts wiping it down, giving himself something to do. He only looks up when Jesse mutters a little, “The usual americano for me, wouldn’t you Blaine,” and Blaine just nods and does as he says. 

He doesn’t say anything more because soon Rachel is moving back to the lobby after just coming from the bathroom, and Blaine tries to hide his sigh of relief; he can let them talk amongst themselves and then be on their way.

“Hello there beautiful,” Blaine hears Jesse say to her and tries not to throw up at the sound of their lips pressing together, _way_ too loud for two PM on a Monday afternoon. He listens in to their conversation as he pours the coffee into one of their takeaway cups, a little annoyed at how Rachel could be restocking the cake display right now rather than caressing her beloved or whatever disturbing thing Jesse’s trying to display now. 

Rachel speaks up, “Um, Blaine, if you don’t mind - Jesse’s taking me out so it’s just going to be you and Mr Lamouri for a while,” she says, hand clasped with Jesse’s, interlocked and swinging between them, and Blaine could really punch her if it wasn’t for that _smile_ on her face because he knows how that look feels on the inside - he feels like that with Kurt. And maybe he’s allowed to hate Jesse but still be happy for Rachel.

He nods his head, smiles a little, says nothing in relation to small talk or questioning Jesse’s idea. It’s better to say nothing to avoid annoying words from Jesse, not that he’s incredibly enthusiastic about the idea of Rachel leaving halfway through her shift. 

Alternatively, he hands the takeaway cup of americano to Jesse who just takes it and walks away, still holding Rachel’s hand, and Blaine has to suddenly shout, “Wait! You haven’t paid!” and Jesse just replies smugly with, “Oh, Rachel said it was on the house.”

He is going to kill Jesse st James. And punch Rachel. He’ll write it down on his to-do list when he gets home.

Rule number one of serving and ordering a beverage at Janice’s Coffee: never say that someone else’s order is on the house when you’re not the one making the drink. That’s none of your business, and Mr Lamouri won’t be incredibly happy with you either. 

(That’s not an official statement or anything, but when Blaine gets his cafe he might consider making it one).

Door closing behind the couple now, Blaine looks to his side as he hears Mr Lamouri sighing - a contrast to his usual bursts into song. He smiles a little as he sees him restocking the cakes (thank god - the salted caramel brownies have been on high demand today) and Blaine just has to ask, “So… how come you let Rachel get away with leaving halfway through her shift?” and unsuccessfully hiding the tinge of sourness in his tone.

“She asked me.” Mr Lamouri answers, not looking up from where he’s filling the cabinet, “Don’t be so harsh. They are children.”

“Rachel’s twenty-one.”

“Still children.” The older man reasons, “Also, you deserve a little time to -” he searches for the right word, still a little rusty on some of his English sometimes, “how do you say - meet new people. Fall in love. All of that,” he finishes with a wave of a hand, and of course he thinks _that,_ because Blaine knows how much Mr Lamouri _loves_ love. God, basically the whole of _Friends_ is based around relationships. Of course, he loves love.

Honestly, Blaine is grateful for it. He’s grateful that his boss is actually an incredibly nice person, and pretty lenient when it comes to work hours (really - he is one of the main reasons Blaine was able to hit it off with Kurt in the first place - giving him that free time to talk to him), much unlike Alessandra, Kurt’s boss - who, according to Kurt, one moment seems like she’s the sweetest person in the world and then the next seems like she will murder all her workers on the spot in broad daylight. 

Blaine’s glad that finally, after years of hurt, he finally has someone to look up to and ask for advice on all the important things in life - something Blaine would have loved to ask his dad if he ever knew him. Blaine’s also sure that maybe, just maybe, Mr Lamouri might just be a friend to him, even though the mystery of him is sort of comforting; Blaine likes knowing he has an authority figure he can go to when in need of advice from someone other than his mom or grandmother. 

He chuckles, “I suppose that’s fair enough,” and Mr Lamouri looks over at him quickly from where he’s finishing stocking the cakes.

He has a very, _very_ good boss.

*

The days after that go by quite slowly - just Blaine working through paperwork to get the offer on his cafe finalised, and going through all the financial agreements, working out how much he actually _has_ to make this place look good. He brainstorms coffee shop names with Tina, Quinn helping through the wonders of Facetime, and doesn’t really come to any conclusions, too scared that the offer might just fall through and then he’ll be back to square one again (which basically means he’ll have to save up even more money; all of the other spots for cafes are further into the heart of New York and are all extremely expensive; the ones that he can actually afford are tiny - absolutely no space for seating). 

The main thing he’s realised is that he’s only seen Kurt once this week, and the messaging on texts has been… sparse. There was one hasty meetup on Wednesday afternoon during Blaine’s break (it was at the Starbucks - the one around the corner from Janice’s - extra busy and not something Blaine is usually accustomed to) with Kurt looking very stressed - more frown lines on his face than usual, which is weird for Kurt because he’s always going on about the rigorous skin-sloughing regime that he goes through every night to avoid frown lines showing, and for Blaine to see that never means something good. 

And then, during that coffee, there were quick spouts of, “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch this week I just— well I was going to buy you flowers, but the subway was delayed and then there weren’t any good flower shops en route and I was wondering maybe you wouldn’t even want flowers and I just—” but Blaine just touched his hand and gave him a smile, that reassuring one that always helps Kurt, and didn’t think much of it - rather just feeling like he could swoon over the fact that Kurt actually thought of buying him flowers; such a small gesture but filled with so much love; the sheer significance of it didn’t matter at all, because _Kurt_ thought to buy him _flowers._

He’s never received flowers from a boy before. He still hasn’t.

Still, that doesn’t change the fact that Blaine doesn’t go to sleep without worrying, because all their texts this week have just been short messages filled with no sense of remorse. It’s been, ‘ _you okay?’_ (and then a little kiss because Blaine needs Kurt to know that he _cares,_ he cares so much for Kurt) and Kurt just replies with ‘ _yes’_ and nothing else. It’s always simple one-worded answers, and Blaine can hardly think because Kurt’s never like this.

He worries more and more and when it gets to Friday night, Blaine can hardly sleep. He’s tried texting Kurt. He really has. He’s been left on read multiple times now, and all Blaine sees in his mind is that over-stressed face, frown lines and fast-talking and snappy Kurt, not the usual humour Blaine normally appreciates.

And then the realisation flashes through his mind, fast and sudden like Blaine’s been whacked with a frying pan, the realisation that _Kurt doesn’t want to see me anymore._

That whole Saturday, he feels numb. He doesn’t get out of bed. Tina checks on him multiple times, brings him cups of herbal tea but Blaine doesn’t drink it because god every warm beverage reminds him of Kurt and chai tea lattes and cappuccinos and kissing on velvet sofas and whispers of the future. He lies there, sulking, half worried for Kurt still and half aching for himself because Kurt is probably actually completely fine and has just made the decision to stop talking to Blaine. 

(There’s probably some hot male model wandering around Vogue headquarters right now who Kurt has had his eye on for a long time; Blaine was just too hopeful to see any flaws in his lover.)

Monday now, and Blaine still hasn’t heard much at all from the other man. Quinn suggests that Blaine should go to his apartment to see if he’s okay - _“You’re being pathetic, just go and find him” -_ but Blaine is completely convinced that whatever he and Kurt had is now over. Instead, he puts all his energy into finally getting his cafe, and by Wednesday, the shop is officially his, forms and agreements all finalised, and oh my god this is completely _real,_ but then it doesn’t feel real at all.

Thursday comes fast, and whilst helping with painting the walls a stone-blue, being extremely careful not to get any of the pigment onto her tea dress, Quinn says, “I know you’ve achieved your dream that you’ve had since you were like—”

“Since I was four, Quinn.” Blaine interrupts, sort of snappy and hardly listening.

“... Right,” Quinn concedes, “since you were four. But it’s just— I know you’re not happy, Blaine.” 

There’s a short cock of a head and a smile, a quick chuckle from Blaine as he swipes more paint onto the walls, says, “You don’t have to do this, Quinn. Really. It’s fine. I’m moving on.”

Quinn forcefully drops the paintbrush onto the floor, and oh god there’s that stubborn look on her face, and Blaine just raises his eyebrows at her because _this will not end well_.

“Blaine,” She starts, “you. Are. Being. Stupid. He hasn’t even said that it’s over. Who even told you that it’s over?”

“... Myself?”

“That’s right. Which means one thing: none of what you think is true is actually true.”

“Quinn—”

“No, Blaine. Listen to me,” Quinn says, and Blaine fights the urge to groan and roll his eyes, “I love you, but you are _way_ too quick to judge a situation. You don’t know what’s going on here. It could just be work. You don’t _know._ So take my advice, and listen to me. You need to go and see him.”

Blaine doesn’t really say anything, just focuses back on his patch of wall, but his mind is _whirling_ . Silently, he knows that what Quinn is saying is incredibly reasonable and she’s normally always right, but there’s just— something. Like, what if this thing that I’ve told myself is actually true? What if, if I do go to see him, he closes the door on me and doesn’t look back? What if all these little things - the smiley coffee, the lights on Brooklyn Bridge, the awkward conversations that have led us _here -_ just become memories lost in the past. If I write all those memories down in a notebook and suddenly that’s all they’ll ever be? Just like every other man I’ve known - their voices only a whisper on the wind? I’ll look back at this time and Valentine’s Day and just… laugh. And it will all be over…? 

Blaine is so, so scared of the past. 

They work in quiet for a while, the only sound being Quinn’s wooden heels on synthetic flooring; beeps of angry taxi drivers outside. Blaine thinks, and thinks, and thinks some more. Because he really, really likes to overthink scenarios.

He decides, mostly - apart from his own self-pity - that it’s the worry for Kurt that hurts the most. He cares for him. He cares so much. And maybe, that’s the main thing that starts everything else. Blaine’s hurt for someone else turns into hurt for himself, and then things keep spiralling and Blaine is unsure how to stop. He’s never been that good at relationships. Sure, he knows cool places to take his dates and stuff, but he’s never been good at the social part. He’s always unsure of himself, always feeling a little like he’s dodging frogs and jumping from lily pad to lily pad. He just doesn’t _know._ And Quinn is right. He needs to fix this. Because he has no idea if Kurt is okay right now - god, he could be really, really unsafe right now and Blaine wouldn’t have any idea - and that scares him. He _needs_ to help Kurt.

“Thank you, Quinn,” Blaine finally pipes up after a while, “for everything. I mean it.”

He looks over at her, and Quinn’s already looking back at him, and she’s so graceful, the way she looks - that could-be-famous blonde hair and floral dress, wedged heels and red lipstick, that knowing smile on her face - she really is like something out of a movie. And Blaine thinks, we’ve known each other since we were tiny. We _know_ each other now.

He remembers Kurt’s nearly-bought flowers. He remembers how stressed and worried he looked, remembers that look of regret on his face, and he has to smile. Because it reminds Blaine of how much Kurt seems to care, reminds Blaine of his kindness, and the fact that he actually mentioned he was going to buy Blaine flowers is… it just seemed like something people never really say. And Blaine’s heart swells, and he wishes, oh god how he wishes, how much he could calm Kurt with a peaceful hand, like that Wednesday in Starbucks. 

Because Kurt… Kurt means so much to Blaine. 

He knows what he needs to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i may have sort of explained this poem inside the story but anyway,,,,,,
> 
> this chapter was a bit of an angsty one (ish) and this poem kind of shows that even though Kurt has kind of screwed blaine over, blaine still cares about him. the fact that kurt admitted he was going to buy blaine flowers is louder to blaine than the fact he didn't, because it still shows kurt's devotion to him in way????? but yeahhhh i love this poem a lot (watch all my fics become inspired by wendy cope's poetry oops) 
> 
> i love wendy's work because it's so simple and pretty easy to understand but still hold a lot of meaning,,,, and this is shown really well here in 'flowers'. it's genius!!
> 
> -
> 
> if you want updates on when the next chapter will come out (nearly finished now omg :( !!) then you can follow my tumblr, @theyaskedmeto


	10. Seeing You by Wendy Cope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******trigger warning for mentions of death/talking about Kurt's mum's death in this chapter!!
> 
> please leave a comment and kudos when you finish this chap!! hope u enjoy :)

**Seeing You by Wendy Cope**

_ "Seeing you will make me sad. _

_ I want to do it anyway. _

_ We can’t relieve the times we had - _

_ Seeing you will make me sad. _

_ Perhaps it’s wrong. Perhaps it’s mad. _

_ But we will both be dead one day. _

_ Seeing you will make me sad. _

_ I have to do it anyway." _

  
  


_ * _

After finishing with the painting for the day, giving Quinn a quick hug goodbye, Blaine rushes home filled with a little more excitement than he has been accustomed to for the past week. 

“Tina, I’m home!” He shouts and hears a little scream from Tina’s room. Slightly worried at her sudden outburst, he rushes in to find her on the bed, hair a little frazzled, Mike laying beside her. He’s still clinging onto her hand and her face seems flushed, and as he spots Tina’s tights on the floor, Blaine just  _ knows, _ “It’s three PM on a Thursday afternoon you guys! What the hell?” and Tina just presses her lips together sheepishly, doesn’t say anything.

There’s an awkward silence before Mike speaks up, says, “Tina said you were… in a bad mood?”

“Um, yes…” Blaine starts before trailing off, a little confused with the whole situation as he holds onto the door, already sort of trying to make his way out of the room, “But— I think I’m… well. I think it’s fine now.” and Mike just nods.

He doesn’t know Mike very well - they’ve only met up a handful of times; Tina normally goes over to see him rather than Mike comes over to theirs - much like Blaine with Kurt. Aside from that matter, though, he does get on well with Mike - even if he isn’t as well acquainted with him, and those awkward stares are just normal when you don’t know someone.

“So, wait,” Tina says after a moment, “this whole thing with Kurt… that’s okay now?”

Blaine smiles, “Not… really,” he says, “But… I think I can fix it.” and moves away from her room, goes to the kitchen to get a snack - painting walls makes him surprisingly hungry.

He has to get himself in the right mindset for this, because judging from previous encounters with Kurt, he’s found that he’s really not very good at talking whilst he’s around him. So he starts thinking, tries not to overthink it too much.

The thing is, he is still mad at Kurt. He really is. He’s mad at the way he’s suddenly been completely cut off, mad at the way that, when he has been able to contact him, Kurt’s replies have been strained and  _ not enough.  _ And maybe that’s half of what’s driving him to do this, half of what’s giving him the courage, the annoyance of it all, but it’s more than that.

Blaine’s been hurting for a week. It’s been filled with moping around and groaning and too much time alone, and none of it was enjoyable (well, maybe the allowance of being able to stay in bed all day on Saturday, but that’s aside from the point). 

It’s only that he doesn’t want it to be like that for any moment longer. He wants to see Kurt. He needs to see Kurt. He misses him. Misses that face, that wit, the way he feels when he’s around him. And there is a chance that this could all end in tragedy, where Blaine will simply be set aside once more, but he needs to stop thinking that way. He has to do this, otherwise everything will definitely  _ not _ go the way Blaine wants it to go.

He doesn’t even hesitate before he’s walking out the door once again.

  
  


*

  
  


Blaine breezes through the journey to Kurt’s a little cloudily, feels like the rest of New York is moving without him. It takes three stops on the subway to get to his apartment, and as the world moves, Blaine’s mind is spinning with it. He clutches onto the metal pole in the carriage, sways as the train turns through tunnels, thinks about everything he and Kurt have been through so far.

It’s all so blurry, the way everything has come to be how it is. Yet it’s so clear in Blaine’s memories, that first glance. He remembers Rachel’s words and how she said something like ‘he’s totally your type’ and Blaine was completely unconvinced that anyone like  _ that _ would be with anyone like  _ him. _ It’s crazy, he keeps thinking - god, he thinks it over and over again every time Kurt’s standing there in front of him, kissing him, holding his hand, looking into his eyes - it’s crazy that this is actually how it turned out, and suddenly Blaine’s forgetting about the doubt the past week has put him through and focuses straight on  _ Kurt,  _ because really, Kurt’s there at the centre of it all. He has been for the past month and a half.

In some ways, he probably is thinking too hopefully - god, he’s always thinking much too hopefully - he doesn’t even know if Kurt _wants_ him anymore. The outright bluntness of that statement pierces right through him, straight through his heart it’s like he can’t breathe _._ But he’s been thinking like that for too long now, never has really thought in such a negative way before (one time Kurt described him as a bouncy golden retriever and Blaine considered it to be scarily accurate), always been such an optimist; maybe the impact of thinking so pessimistically after never really doing such a thing has made everything just generally worse. He’s not sure.

He remembers the down days, remembers that time when Kurt came into the coffee shop and his face was pale and he didn’t really say much, as if he were just another random figure waving through New York but he could never be like that because it’s  _ Kurt.  _ Kurt isn’t just another figure. Blaine doesn’t want him to be just another figure, doesn’t want to remember him like that,  _ can’t  _ remember him like that. Kurt isn’t someone that you can just forget, because  _ my love _ you are all the things I’ve wanted in the world, all the things I’ve wanted and don’t deserve, you’re all the things I needed but could never even know I needed - Kurt is someone that Blaine will always, always—

He can’t finish the sentence. Not until he’s sure. Not until he knows everything is okay.

He makes it off the subway and still feels a little lost, sort of forgets his own existence with the number of other people getting off the carriage with him. It’s amazing how well you can hide in New York; the way that everyone seems to have their own unique feel to them but in the grand scheme of things everyone just seems… lost. Like they don’t know the true purpose of why they had such a huge need to be in this city in the first place. 

Blaine’s mind is  _ buzzing. _

He’s aware that he’s thinking too much as he weaves through people, thousands and thousands of lives that he will never see, because the only person he really needs right now is Kurt. 

It is literally a breath of fresh air as he walks up the long flight of stairs out of the subway, hands stuffed into pockets, still can see the cold, half-winter’s air mixing with his own. He doesn’t really know what to feel as he goes, just keeps moving between people, down the streets and along them, taking the journey that feels almost normal to him now. The way it’s become something so familiar to him is sort of scary, sounds the importance of his relationship with Kurt, but he guesses that Kurt is important to him, and how could this not be something significant now? How, after all these days, could these streets not signal something  _ more…? _

Blaine sighs, pulls his sweater cuffs over his fingers to shield them from the cold, keeps walking, and soon he’s close. 

Later, he’s in front of Kurt’s apartment door.

And his heart hurts.

It pulls inside of him, aches in his chest. Because everything he’s been through with Kurt, everything he’s learnt about him, all the things they’ve come to know about each other and create, all of that fate is on the other side of that door. Blaine remembers how, on the first date, he was stood here, waiting, mind skipping between situations and thinking faster than he could comprehend, trying to focus on the decor of the door itself and not what lies inside. And, if he focuses hard enough, he thinks he could do that now, but the newness has changed, now. Everything just feels sort of  _ normal _ , and in a way that’s worse. Because this normality holds so much meaning, it holds history and Blaine’s not sure if he can understand it, now Kurt is something  _ normal  _ to Blaine because, god, they know each other now, and that normal is definitely not out of boredom but the sheer fascination; everyday knowing you and seeing you and being with you and  _ here you are again.  _

And so, without another moment to overthink it, Blaine knocks on the door. 

He doesn’t hear anything for a while and the silence of everything around him is probably louder than if he could actually hear something happening. He waits, and worries that maybe this was much too big of a mistake and he should just turn away, should just forget about Kurt and walk away (that reminds him of Gabriella in  _ High School Musical three,  _ god, why is every  _ High School Musical  _ movie based around the fact that Gabriella leaves…?) and maybe it would be better like that. Although then he’s completely forgetting the fact that he just spent the last week sad and in bed, and decides maybe it’s better to just…  _ wait. _

And then the sound is reverberating through Blaine as he hears the unlocking of the door, and before he’s even aware Kurt’s standing in front of him, face instantly morphing into one of great appreciation.

All Blaine can say is, “Hey.” and Kurt breathes a little harder through his nose in amusement as he answers with, “Hi.”

“I um. I haven’t— seen you. In a while.” 

“No, you haven’t.”

“It’s been a week. Or more.”

“It has.”

And then they’re just staring at each other, and Blaine’s just boldly looking at his face, not even ashamed that he’s doing so. He notices how Kurt’s eyes seem tired, and there’s still those frown lines on his forehead, and Blaine wonders oh god what have you been doing since I’ve been gone, if you’ve been hiding something—

He tries not to think any more about that, and just focuses on the way he’s still so, so beautiful, and Kurt’s staring back at him like he is too. And Blaine would just lean in and kiss him if he didn’t know where the boundaries lay—

But then Kurt’s cupping his cheeks in his soft hands and kissing  _ him _ instead.

It’s fast, and there are little breaks in between lips pressed to lips and then it’s slower again, one of Kurt’s hands moving down to Blaine’s shoulder, and Kurt breathes  _ “I missed you,”  _ as he keeps on kissing him. Blaine’s a little disorientated, for a moment doesn’t really know if he’s standing on the ground or not, feels like he’s floating away with Kurt all over again. He smiles against his lips, “Missed you too.”

They break apart soon after, and it’s like time has gone back to a few minutes ago; staring into each other’s eyes and the world stands still. But then Kurt is asking, “Where… were you?” and it’s like Blaine has been paused, frozen, thinking  _ that’s what I was asking myself about you all week long. _

“I was going to ask the same.”

Time passes, and Kurt sighs and threads his and Blaine’s fingers together, “Come in.” and pulls him into his tiny shoebox apartment. 

The first thing Blaine notices as he moves in is… how much of a mess it is, to put it lightly. Kurt’s normally the sort of person, Blaine has discovered, who stress bakes and then stress tidies maybe a little too much to compensate for the mess the baking made, and then just keeps on tidying, which means his apartment is always spotless, nothing on the floor and everything put where it should be. But now, however, there’s paisley fabrics all over the floor and dress designs scattered along Kurt’s velvet sofa (he said once that that sofa was his pride and joy) and three mannequins in the corner: one with a half finished and rather breathtaking fishtail dress with various cutouts, lilac mesh tapering off and pins stuck in various places where the fabric hasn’t been sewn, one very short and seemingly quite revealing mini dress with 3D roses dotted along it, and then another that hardly even looks like a dress at all, like Kurt’s only just started it; black silk and pins stuck everywhere. It’s quite a picture, all this sewing equipment and then Kurt standing in the middle of it all with  _ that look _ on his face, and Blaine can just see the stress; it’s like it’s all been hidden in this little box of an apartment and kept there, dissolved into the fabrics and into Kurt himself. 

Kurt tries to start, “... Yeah.” and his hands are situated awkwardly in front of himself, looking back at Blaine as he takes it all in. He opens his mouth, once, twice, and then Kurt is speaking, as if he needs to explain himself, “It’s Fashion Week. Everything’s been a bit up in the air the past few weeks trying to get everything ready—” it’s like he’s breathing faster than he can handle as he speaks, “and then something came up a few days before that and I’ve kind of not been paying enough attention to you at all and I saw all your texts and missed calls and I’m sorry but I—”

“Hey hey hey hey Kurt it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve been stupid too. I understand.” Blaine interrupts, and he’s pulling on his arm again, pulling him into a hug, nestles into his neck, sways them around, says, “I get it now. It’s okay.” and hugs him tighter, tighter, tighter. I’m never letting you get away from me, not for that long, not with so much insecurity. 

And that’s how they stay for a while, just swaying, listening to the beeps and hustle of the streets below. Blaine’s lips tug for a smile when he thinks that if his life were a movie, there’d be music suddenly playing right now that they would dance along to. Maybe  _ High School Musical. _ ‘Can I Have This Dance’ would fit perfectly. 

He’s not sure how many minutes pass, maybe five, maybe seven, but then Kurt’s mumbling into the side of his neck, “I hate fashion week. I mean, it’s amazing, but it means Allessandra’s good side is out the window.” 

Blaine gives a sad smile, “If only Mr Lamouri was a fashion designer. He’d be a good boss.” 

Kurt says, “Hm. I think his evil side would come out if he were a fashion designer.” and Blaine has to laugh, because this is the Kurt he knows, held closely to him, joking back quickly. 

He wonders for a moment, thinks about the past few occurrences, thinks about Kurt’s words. He knows he needs to sort out what this is between them, because hopefully they are boyfriends, but then Blaine doesn’t want to cross boundaries. And then Kurt was saying ‘something came up’ which never means anything good, and then he’s overthinking again. So he asks, “Are you really okay?”

The other man pulls back, looks at Blaine, eyes sort of wide and eyebrows a little raised, hesitates, “Hmm?”

Blaine tries not to make it sound awful, “I mean— you said something came up. Are— are you… okay now?”

There’s a short smile on Kurt’s face, a quick chuckle, like the thing he’s about to say isn’t exactly humorous at all, breathes evenly. 

“I haven’t.” He stops for a moment, comes back again. “I haven’t told you about my Mom.”

Arms close further around Kurt’s back at that, didn’t expect  _ that. _ He’s never asked or talked about that subject with Kurt, because it never really came up and Blaine didn’t think much about it, only that Kurt grew up with just his dad and there was no mention of a mother. And, well. Blaine’s not one to intrude when it comes to things like that, doesn’t wish to ask, so he assumed it wasn’t something Kurt was keen talking about, and just let it be. He’d only really mentioned his life growing up a few times, and yes, Blaine knows about the bullying and the hurt and even though Kurt grew up in Connecticut there’s still hate, there’s always hate. Blaine’s been a victim of it, too. He knows how it feels. But—

But he doesn’t know  _ much. _ And this is an important moment, an important  _ subject, _ and suddenly everything is happening, and maybe this is more than Blaine thought.

It’s not time for Blaine now, though. He needs to listen to Kurt. So he just answers with a simple “Okay.” and that’s a good thing to say, isn’t it? ‘Okay’ will always be a good place to start.

  
  


*

They find a spot on the floor to sit and talk - everything really is so messy in the little apartment that there’s hardly any space to breathe; the sofa is completely cluttered in fabrics and threads and so Kurt just sort of clears a space on the floor to sit, cross legged and opposite each other, and Blaine laughs quietly as he moves the detritus out of the way with his foot - something that doesn’t seem very Kurt-like at all. 

Nonetheless, they sit, facing each other, hands held between them continuously. And finally, after a little while of sorting the space out in comfortable silence, Kurt speaks.

“My— my Mom died when I was seven.” 

And there it is, the truth out in the open, and as Kurt says it, Blaine can feel his hands clutch a little tighter around his fingers, like saying the words will always hurt, no matter how much time will pass, and there’s an instant reaction on Blaine’s face, and the other man just squeezes his hands a little as if to say,  _ ‘don’t worry about apologizing’.  _ And so he doesn’t say anything, but the way they talk can just be communicated through silence.

“I… I don’t remember her very much. Well.” Kurt looks down at their hands joined together, legs crossed as if it's reminding him of when he was small, “I do, but. It’s just— I remember the little things. Like the smell of her perfume. I still have her perfume bottle that my Dad and I hang up on the tree each Christmas…”

He trails off for a moment, lips pressing together tightly, and Blaine has to stroke the side of his hands, doesn’t say anything, just listens, looks into Kurt’s eyes, a little teary already. Listening is one of the best things to do,  _ his _ mom told him that.

Kurt starts again, “I remember one summer when I must have been about… five or four. We went to England. Stayed by the beach. And I remember my Mom helping me out and trying to find a good place to build a sandcastle where there weren't any stones, because—” He laughs a little tearily, “Well. From what I remember, English beaches aren’t very sandy. And we found a spot, and we sat there building sandcastles. She… she found some shells and we decorated it. I don’t know. I don’t know if I can really remember all that much or I just feel like I can remember it from dreams or my Dad telling me. 

“But… he told me that I used to say things to my Mom like, I wanna be a princess when I grow up. He’s always said that my Mom would’ve been better than the whole— gay thing… than him. I don’t— I don’t know. He’s always been supportive. Sometimes I just wonder what it would’ve been like if she was still here.”

When he says it, he just looks at his and Blaine’s hands together, intertwined, and when he finishes he looks up. Blaine’s still got that even look on his face, just listening, and they meet each other’s eyes.

Blaine isn’t really sure what to say, god, what do you say to someone who means so much to you who lost someone so young? He quickly wonders if ‘I’m sorry, Kurt’ will cut it. But he thinks about the ‘ _ don’t apologize to me’  _ and instead just decides to wipe a running tear of Kurt’s cheek, falling without acknowledgement and caught on his finger. Then he kisses him, because that’s the only other thing he can think to do; he’s never good at talking in situations like this, and his grandmother always tried to teach him that actions speak louder than words. So that’s what he tries to do.

Salt and tears mix on sweet lips.

“I said something came up.” Kurt mumbles as they pull back, and Blaine’s hand is still cupping his cheek, stroking the bone there. “You know that time I came into Janice’s and we still weren’t really talking much but… I think you saw I was— stressed. Or, you said you were there if I ever wanted to talk. And I just thought, there aren’t enough people like you in the world. Your kindness, Blaine. You’re so…  _ kind.  _ I just— I was amazed by you.”

Blaine just says back, “I’m amazed by you too.” and Kurt’s head cocks to the side slightly, lips pressed together affectionately, says, “I um. That day, you put a smiley face on my coffee. You made me smile. 

“The truth is, that wasn’t— that wasn’t a good day for me at all. My Mom… she— it was her commemoration day. She— she passed away fifteen years ago on that day,” his voice is getting more uneasy now, “and I couldn’t—” he sniffs, “I couldn’t get tickets to see my dad to visit her grave. So I just,” sobbing now, “I came to see you. Because, you cheer me up, Blaine. You— you make me happy.”

Blaine watches him, clutches his hands, only says, “You make me so happy, too.” and it is also a little teary, like Kurt, both sort of crying from the empathy and the pain. And it’s like there’s something they both want to say, Blaine  _ knows, _ but nothing else on that matter is said.

Kurt explains, “These past few weeks, I… well. It has been a month since then. And on that day a month later I was just… regretting it. My Dad and I had to go through that day alone; it just wasn’t right. And, well. When I get sad I close myself off. And also it’s the lead up to fashion week so I just sewed. A lot. I went to work and I came home again and kept working. That Wednesday when I met up with you I just— it made me realise how stressed I was. So I’m sorry I… I just tried to avoid being so aware of the stress by not meeting you because… you make me  _ happy  _ and I didn’t want you to see me like this, I didn’t want you to be the reason I’m so aware of how stressed I was. So I just closed myself off. And… now I’m here.

Blaine breathes, and there’s not much he can say at all, because now it’s all out in the open, words now escaped from Kurt’s mouth, dissolving into the air like they’ve never been said; only a memory. And Kurt stares back at him, and suddenly there’s those years of grief showing on his face, eyes clouded, mouth pulled taught, pain and hurt being the only thing showing. And Blaine thinks,  _ I won’t ever let anyone hurt you. _

He does have to speak though, because he can see in Kurt’s expressions how he’s waiting for an answer, so he does.

“I um. I wasn’t expecting that at all…” Is the first thing he says, slightly awkward and unaware of himself, because really, he’s so unsure of what to say when it comes to moments like this, but he continues. “You are so, so strong, Kurt. And… I’m amazed by you every day.” and that’s alright, isn’t it? He’ll never be good at this. He just pulls him closer by their intertwined fingers, lets Kurt nestle his head in the space between his shoulder and neck. And after breathing in the smell of his hair he whispers, “I got so— so worried you didn’t want to see me anymore, or something stupid like that. I just… overthink things a little too much. And you mean so much to me, Kurt. I just  _ know.  _ From the moment you stepped into Janice’s Coffee, I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I care about you.”

From behind his head he hears the quiet mumble, barely there within the silence of the tiny apartment, Kurt’s little, “I care about you too.”

Blaine hums, strokes his back softly, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can control them, “Be my boyfriend.”

Kurt pulls back, “W-what?”

“I… I said it. Be my boyfriend.” And the way Blaine says it is surprisingly matter-of-factly.

Then Kurt’s a little bit all-over-the-place, tears still running down his cheeks from the sadness of before but now gaping at Blaine dazedly and it's all just a mix of emotions, but then he starts smiling through those tears and nods, still quiet, but laughs a little, and Blaine starts laughing excitedly with him, pulls him into a kiss again. And suddenly everything kind of makes  _ sense. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how accurately this poem fits with he chapter but it's pretty accurate??? the way I've done this is make a story and then find a poem for each chapter. but yeah,,,, the idea of this poem is that basically in the back of (lets just say blaine) blaine's mind, even though he's still mad at Kurt he knows he has to see him, _wants_ to see him even if he's not aware of it, because Kurt still means so much to him :')))
> 
> Also i think the fact it says 'we can't relieve the times we had' is made to be sort of comedic in a way because of how Blaine's overthinking is portrayed in the previous chapter? he is a DUMBASS. anyway I'll leave you with that so i wont go into a big old gcse 40 mark english lit question oops


	11. After the Lunch by Wendy Cope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the last proper chapter, but there'll be an epilogue up within a week or so!
> 
> Sorry for the sporadic posting, I've just been unmotivated and busy at the mo but have been able to finish this chapter!!  
> hope you lot enjoy xx

**After the Lunch by Wendy Cope**

_ On Waterloo Bridge, where we said our goodbyes, _

_ The weather conditions bring tears to my eyes. _

_ I wipe them away with a black woolly glove _

_ And try not to notice I’ve fallen in love. _

_ On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think: _

_ This is nothing. you’re high on the charm and the drink. _

_ But the juke-box inside me is playing a song _

_ That says something different. And when was it wrong? _

_ On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair _

_ I am tempted to skip. You’re a fool. I don’t care. _

_ The head does its best but the heart is the boss- _

_ I admit it before I am halfway across. _

  
  


_ * _

  
  


The night is filled with talking and then worried kisses and more talking, and by the time the sun rises, both their eyes are much more bloodshot, a little darker around the edges and very very watery.

Blaine still can’t really get over the fact that he has a _ boyfriend, _ even more so that Kurt is the one who is his boyfriend. He’s a little mind-boggled because suddenly it’s Blaine and Kurt, or Kurt and Blaine, not just Blaine. And then he’s trying to process that whilst staring into Kurt’s eyes and joking and talking and laughing with him and being  _ together _ and everything is… a lot.

Halfway through the night, maybe later than that, maybe just before the sun rose, he’s pretty sure he bursted into tears and started crying on Kurt’s shoulder, probably a little hysteric from the happenings of the past week and a half and the information about Kurt’s mom and the fact that  _ oh god you’re here and what do we do now. _

Because this really means something this time. 

Blaine’s only half aware of how the sun has risen fully, because the curtains aren’t properly open and he’s been rather focused on Kurt, and they’ve been laying on top of the duvet on Kurt’s bed for the past five hours just talking about everything, everything that went wrong and gossip about what’s happening at Kurt’s office (Blaine has become widely informed on all of Kurt’s colleagues and their antics - he knows about Alessandra and her ever-changing attitude towards Kurt, and he knows about Kyle, who so very obviously has quite a large crush on Lindsey From England, the one who no one else likes and is referred to, quite literally, as  _ Lindsey From England _ , and he also knows that Kurt doesn’t really like any of them - apart from maybe Chandler who’s twenty or something and an intern of some sort, who Kurt describes as ‘really really sweet’, and then always rushes to say ‘but definitely not my type!’ because he sees  _ that look  _ on Blaine’s face). 

They also talk about Blaine’s dad and how Blaine doesn’t even know what he looks like apart from one stupid photo, and how his mom and grandmother have raised him to be who he is today, and the infamous story about the time Blaine tried to help his grandmother cook Adobo but failed and she was ‘very disappointed’ in him (at age eleven; he’s never been the same since, he likes to joke) and is now too scared to try and cook it ever again because his grandmother’s judgement means so much to him. He tells him more about how he’s wanted a cafe all his life and now he finally has it and everything is slightly surreal and he’s kind of unsure where to go next.

“I just… feel like I’ve already suddenly done everything.” He said, face honest and so, so vulnerable, and Kurt just reached out and stroked that curl that always breaks free from the gel back once again and whispered, “Sometimes that’s a good thing. That only means there are other things to go searching for.”

And they probably kiss hundreds of times, because every time Blaine pours his heart out and Kurt catches the pieces and helps him put them back together he just has to kiss him, because Kurt is probably the wisest person he’s ever met.

Other things happen too, slow and gentle, quiet whispers uttered and promises in the dark and then the sun rises again, creeping up on both of them. And for some reason, Blaine feels more awake than he normally does when he gets a good night’s sleep, high on the moment and all the adrenaline, and he’s pretty sure there’s a headache coming on but it’s like he’s already numb to it.

Fingers trailing down soft skin like marked canvases, hardly painted but scarred a little…

They do nap eventually, and Blaine falls asleep on top of Kurt’s chest, stroking patterns into his skin, body feeling soft from their previous engagements. The sun finally settles in the sky again, light seeping into blue and mixing with the earth, and then for a couple of hours there’s quiet, not completely silent but the room is only filled with soft breathing and beeps of cars outside - it  _ is _ New York; it’s the city that never sleeps. 

Before that, though - Blaine can’t really pinpoint when but the sun had just set - Blaine felt as if he was living in a movie - like this life was so perfect it could only already be written before by someone who knows how to make something beautiful. He breathed in Kurt’s hair as they swayed around his bedroom (it’s nowhere near as messy as the kitchen and living room), dancing slowly to the original  _ Cinderella  _ soundtrack ( _ sing sweet nightingale… _ they skip the ugly sisters’ part at the beginning because the rest of the song is worth it), murmured, “I wish we could do this forever…” and Kurt whispered back, “Maybe we will.” 

He wakes up again slowly, eyelids fluttering with the haze of sleep, and he’s only slept for two hours so they try to shut straight away. And then he realises that that disturbing sound reverberating through his dreams was the alarm because it’s beeping again, and now it’s eleven-thirty in the morning and they’re both very late.

He shoots up from Kurt’s chest in a rush, and his head feels all dizzy and his vision clouds from the abruptness, and then he’s panicking because oh god he’s got a lecture happening in twenty-five minutes and as he’s doing that he has to shake Kurt’s arm (peaceful, sleeping, graceful Kurt), mutters, “Kurt, come on you’re late…” and it strikes him how awfully domestic this whole moment is, and he freaks out a little more.

Kurt (peaceful, sleeping, graceful) groans quietly, breathes harder in through his nose as consciousness comes back to him after only two hours, and Blaine feels  _ awful.  _ Maybe he could call in sick, he needs the sleep… 

But then Kurt’s mumbling a sleepy, “What-” and turning over and his eyes open too, and Blaine’s pretty sure he blinks a little faster when he sees him above him, “What’s— what’s the time?”

“Um. Eleven-thirty-one.” 

And then Kurt’s wide awake,  _ “Fuck!”  _ and the covers are ripped off of him to reveal a bare chest and black boxer shorts (Blaine blatantly appreciates the view - he can do this now, Kurt’s his  _ boyfriend)  _ and stumbles over to his clothing rail, hastily pulling out some tight blue pants and a pinstripe shirt, and Blaine’s not really sure why he isn’t doing the same because he’s just sitting on the bed and  _ staring,  _ very,  _ very _ distracted, and he does momentarily evaluate the pros and cons of just not going to this lecture. 

Kurt is having a particularly hard time getting into his trousers, sort of half hopping around the bedroom as he struggles to get his leg in the right place. Blaine says, “You need any help?” and he’s quite surprised at his casual flirting; those words came out naturally.  _ You know, that would’ve been much more helpful when you were trying to get his number in the first place.  _

Kurt laughs, “How exactly are you gonna help me?” and Blaine just blushes because fine, he didn’t actually think that through. Not as smooth as he first judged. Kurt just chuckles at him again softly.

“Don’t you have stuff to do, too?” He asks, eventually finished with the battle between him and his trousers, and Blaine is snapped out of his Kurt-induced reverie, suddenly alert at the time again, “Oh— shit.” and leaps off the bed to find yesterday’s clothes scattered beside the bed, cotton shirt now all creased and in desperate need of ironing, but there’s no time for that.

The lack of hope for making it in time increases drastically, and it makes Blaine ask, “Can’t you just call in sick? I can skip class! We can ignore the day and get hot chocolate? Like… our first date?”

Kurt looks at him with that hopeless smile as if to say  _ don’t do this to me _ and then shakes his head and scrunches his eyes, “No… no. I’ve got— I’m busy. We can’t—”

“We talked last night about this.”

“Blaine…”

“I don’t want a repeat of the past nine days, or however long it was.”

Kurt sighs, going over to the small chest of drawers and picks out two ascot ties, one lilac and one dark purple. He goes with dark purple. “Still. That’s not— I do actually need to go to work, Blaine.”

Blaine pouts, “Please stay. Just this once?”

Kurt turns back to him, eyebrows raised, sees Blaine’s obvious puppy eyes, hair still curly from last night’s ventures and sleep and wishes he didn’t have to go, well. He has the option (sort of, if he bends the rules) to  _ not _ go, but it’s very nearly fashion week and there’s so much to  _ do  _ and— 

Blaine’s here. 

Blaine’s here, and he’s his  _ boyfriend. _

He takes a moment to think it over, comes to a conclusion, says, “Fine.”

They fall back into bed after Kurt fakes an illness to Alessandra, Blaine trying not to make him laugh as he watches but it’s just so  _ hard _ , and then they’re close to each other again, Blaine lying behind Kurt with an arm around his side, cuddling him close as sleep pulls them back again.

  
  


*

  
  


It becomes apparent to Blaine, when they wake up again and make their way to a little cafe around the corner from Kurt’s (Kurt said it has the best bagels in the whole of New York), that he’s hardly even talked to his mom about his new boyfriend. 

‘His new boyfriend’ god, it sounds like Blaine’s just picked him out of a catalogue. But really, that’s what it is, on a ground level point of view. Deeper though, it’s so much more than that. 

They walk through small alleys and streets, and now their hands are swinging between them, fingers intertwined and clasped tightly. Every time Blaine looks at Kurt, Kurt looks back, and it’s like suddenly they’re in sync, eyes cloudy and dreaming, and every moment Blaine just wants to kiss him, which, fine, there’s not much difference there because it was like that before, but suddenly the word ‘boyfriend’ is so much more significant to Blaine, because there’s Kurt right next to him, smiling at him, being with him, holding his hand, and Blaine wonders if he’ll ever be able to comprehend the situation.

They make it to the little cafe around the corner, Kurt taking a seat by the large window at the front, looks out into the streets while Blaine orders bagels. It’s a very tiny place, this cafe, but also sort of homely, something Blaine is aiming for with his cafe.

He still hasn’t chosen a name.

His mind flits from one subject to another, one on what to name his coffee shop (he really needs to decide that soon) and thinking about how  _ new _ everything suddenly feels and then remembers how he has to tell his mom about Kurt, so, whilst he’s waiting for the food, he pulls out his phone and texts her.

_ ‘I have something to tell you’,  _ he starts with, just to build suspense. However, he realises this is probably a very incompetent way of handling things, because he’d have to wait for his mom’s response to continue his news, and he just can’t  _ wait.  _ So, instead, he continues his text with, ‘ _ I have a boyfriend!!!!!! We’ve been seeing each other for a month or so.’  _ And doesn’t even bother with trying to restrain his need for the lack of exclamation marks because this is important, and Kurt is over there and when Blaine turns to him after looking up from his phone, he finds him leaning on his hand and smiling over at him, and Blaine realises that he’s probably been doing that the whole time since he went to order food and coffee, and his heart just swells.

He gets the coffees quickly, and sits back down at the table with Kurt whilst they wait for the bagels to come.

There’s a moment when they’re just staring at each other, chins propped up with fists and smiling. They don’t say anything, just stare. There’s an awkward chuckle here and there, little muttering of a ‘hey, you,’ when Blaine sits back down again, sounds of angry taxi drivers beeping each other from across the street, but apart from that they’re just  _ looking  _ at each other. And it’s nice. Lovely, even. Blaine could do it all day.

Then his phone interrupts them with a ping, and the eye contact is broken and Blaine looks down at the table to see the message, and the waitress is bringing them their bagels which they accept gratefully.

**Mom:** Oh, Mahal Ko that is wonderful news. I hope to meet him soon? Send a photo X

“Who’s that you’re texting?” Kurt asks, head cocking slightly to show interest. Blaine smiles at him again - for some reason he just can’t seem to stop  _ smiling, _ says, “Just my mom. I just… told her. About you.”

Kurt chuckles, “What did she say?”

“She said - with lots of spaces in between because she’s not very good at technology -” Blaine laughs hastily, “that she can’t wait to meet you.”

Kurt smirks, bringing his coffee mug up to his lips, “Tell her I’ll be delighted to make her acquaintance.”

Blaine can’t hold back his laugh, raises his phone and turns on the Camera app, says, “Okay, now. Strike a pose.” and Kurt hesitates a little, as if to ask  _ what are you doing?  _ And Blaine just says, “Come on. She also asked for a photo. She’ll love it!” and Kurt just gapes at him with an unbelievable laugh, but soon after a little protesting he smiles and cups his head in his hands like an angel.

Such an angel… 

And it’s Blaine’s new favourite photo. He changes his home screen.

  
  


*

In reality, Blaine does have to get  _ some  _ things done today, especially continuing to decorate his cafe, and he has work at four PM, so he brings Kurt on a little journey before they have to part ways once more. 

They make their way through Manhattan, passing through streets and bustling people and trench coats in the cold winter’s air. It’s sort of raining now, just lightly, sort of drizzling, and Kurt’s hand grips Blaine’s as they have to look down to shield raindrops clouding their vision. 

They pass the little hot chocolate stand they visited on their first date, and they pick up two to drink in the cold, and the miserable weather completely contrasts how Blaine feels right now, fingers closing around the little takeaway cup as the heat warms them a little, takes a sip every now and then when their walking slows.

Soon, they find themselves up on Brooklyn Bridge once more, and they can’t quite reach the top because of the rain, now falling harder, and Kurt isn’t wearing anything waterproof, so he’s mostly soaked. Blaine can feel the weather conditions make his eyes cry. So, they just stand there, halfway to the middle of the bridge and shivering from the cold, and his mind starts whirling again.

He thinks about how he and Kurt have got here, standing together so close on this particularly blustery day, thinks about how he was so  _ scared _ at first but isn’t now, with Kurt’s arm linked in his. He thinks about their dancing to love songs last night, thinks about how close they were, slow and gentle with the lights low, Kurt so vulnerable and all Blaine wanted to do was  _ protect _ him. And he thinks,  _ oh god I am in love with you. _

And when he realises it, he realises how he’s been so blind the past few weeks, realises how being without Kurt made him feel hollow and grey, notices how Kurt always makes him feel the opposite of that when he’s with him, and maybe it’s the coffee and the bagels and the excitement of the day; it’s probably nothing. 

But it really can’t be, not when Blaine really thinks about it, standing there on Brooklyn Bridge, because in the end,  _ what can go wrong?  _ He can’t hide these feelings. He can’t lie to himself. Kurt’s his  _ boyfriend. _ And suddenly Kurt’s mumbling something about how freezing it is and he should probably invest in a waterproof coat because fuck he really is soaking wet and Blaine just says, “I’m in love with you.” and the way he says it sounds like he’s only just realised - the thought is new and shiny and scary to come to terms with - but Kurt’s head turns to meet his and says, “I love you too.”

And then he kisses him and Blaine leans into it eagerly, because that’s what people do when they love each other, here, cold and soaking on Brooklyn Bridge, hot chocolates still in hand. 

Blaine wonders how amazing every other day will be as boyfriends. Wonders how he deserves the life he has. 

But now’s not the time for thinking, because Kurt is kissing him,  _ loving  _ him, and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought this poem fit the storyline really well, and i won't say anymore because I'm tired but wanted to post oops ;))
> 
> please leave a comment and kudos - would be much appreciated!!


	12. EPILOGUE - On a Train by Wendy Cope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my godddd!! so here we are!!! the actual END of the story. One - I'm sorry it took so long to update - i literally have no excuse. although i didn't leave you on a crazy cliffhanger so hopefully it was okay??? anyway... 
> 
> to the readers who have been patient with my updates and have stuck with me through this and commented and everything, THANK YOU SO MUCH! you have been the driving force in getting me to get this shit DONE and yeah. thank u for paying attention to my writing :))
> 
> for some reason i don't feel v emotional? it might just be because it's like 12:30 in the morning and i should be sleeping. anyway, get ready for some spelling mistakes because i was too excited to wait to edit this ;)))
> 
> hope you enjoy this very last chapter!!! it's probably one of my favourites <3

**On a Train by Wendy Cope**

_ The book I’ve been reading _

_ rests on my knee. You sleep. _

_ It’s beautiful out there — _

_ fields, lakes and little winter trees _

_ in February sunlight _

_ every car park a shining mosaic. _

_ Long, radiant minutes,  _

_ your hand in my hand _

_ still warm, still warm. _

  
  


*

  
  


Blaine  _ finally  _ opens his cafe two months after graduation, very close to the start of September. 

Everything feels a little too perfect, and on the morning he goes to take his first shift there, Kurt jokes about how he should’ve gotten a ribbon for the front and cut it like something the president would do, and then Blaine has to laugh and kiss him. He’s still a little amazed at his life, suddenly so perfect when about six months or so ago he was stressing over Christmas and trying to hide the fact that he was kind of very jealous about Quinn’s engagement (her and Luke got married in June - he can’t really remember very much of it apart from the fact the champagne was  _ delicious _ and how Tina looked so beautiful as maid of honour in that dark green dress. He also remembers Quinn drunkenly crying out of sheer happiness. A lot), even though he was happy for her, because you can still be happy for someone and be a little jealous of them too.

He calls the cafe ‘Cappuccino for Two’. Kurt helped with the inspiration for the name. 

Whenever he sees the logo on the shopfront (he always has to look up at it before he goes inside) he thinks of his boyfriend, of that face, that loving face, so kindly quiet but also bold in the early months of knowing Blaine, ordering that same cappuccino each time (always adding extra chocolate topping, always for Kurt, especially when that was the only thing Blaine came up with to be noticed by Kurt, so see that recognition on his face each time he came into Janice’s Coffee), never another person with him, only just one cappuccino for the man who drew fashion designs in his lunch hours. And now, here’s Blaine - but not just Blaine - Blaine and Kurt. Blaine’s always been a fan of a classic cappuccino, and now it’s not just a cappuccino for one, but a cappuccino for two. 

Blaine’s also always appreciated sharing. It’s more friendly. 

The moment Blaine thought of the name (it happened when he was walking to Kurt’s - that’s the time when he’s most thoughtful) it felt almost obvious, as if he should’ve thought of it earlier. Because now he knows what his cafe is called, it just  _ works. _ It makes sense like this - one cappuccino to share between two, all friendly and good and sweet (although a little bitter if you’re talking about the coffee) - it sounds like a place to go and feel safe, a shelter for those who need it. And it’s all thanks to Kurt, Kurt, at the centre of it all; every day Blaine is thinking about him, every time he sees another scarf (but never, never from H&M, because the polyester makes Kurt’s skin flare up) Blaine thinks ‘I wonder if Kurt would like that’, because that’s what happens when you’re in love.

Business on the first day is surprisingly good, and there’s a smile on his face the whole day as he greets busy people in need of coffee and hastily making it for them - something so familiar to him but now, so different; now he’s actually in charge of everything, feels properly sure of himself in a way that he’s never felt before. And then, near the end of the day when his back is aching and is in need of a good sit down, the smile on Blaine’s face only grows wider as he sees that brilliant face walk into the shop, that proud but assertive glance that can only be associated with the one and only Mr Lamouri. 

“Nice place,” Is what he says first, not even a greeting, and Blaine feels so hysterical he could  _ cry _ because it’s so like him - he’s missed him over the few months he hasn’t been working at Janice’s.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr Lamouri.”

The older man takes a meaningful nod, lips pursed close together, says, “You too, you too, kid.” and it’s sort of weird but also feels good - the first time Blaine has been called ‘kid’ ever in his life.

He’s just so  _ happy _ .

Kurt also comes in to see him at the end of that fateful day, and Blaine does actually very nearly burst into tears because he’s rather emotional with all of his ‘dreams coming true’ as cheesy as it sounds, and Kurt is standing there like the first moment Blaine saw him in front of the counter at Janice’s, and yes, it’s only been eight months, it’s only been such a short amount of time, but here Blaine just  _ knows. _ On the days that he wakes up next to this amazing, talented, beautiful man he just thinks,  _ ‘I love you. I love you. Someday—’  _

_ Someday I will marry you. _

Because it’s just like every moment Blaine spends with Kurt reflects their previous interactions, as if they’re only meeting each other again in another universe, like they already knew each other before. And so when Kurt looks at him with that small smile on his face, that hopeful smile, it just reminds Blaine of that first encounter at Janice’s Coffee, Kurt sort of nervous but nowhere near as nervous as Blaine, so really to him, Kurt seemed completely confident in himself; there was that self-assurance that Kurt puts on to make himself feel like he’s completely sure in what he’s doing, but really it’s just to hide the butterflies. Blaine knows that. He  _ knows  _ Kurt. And he loves, loves, loves him, every little lily-pad-stepping-stone of the way. And Kurt loves him back.

Then Kurt says, “Hey.” and Blaine, still a little gobstruck, repeats his words, just like he does most days when Kurt comes over after the tiring petty arguments with Lindsey from England and how  _ that mesh fabric isn’t gonna work well with this design, I’m sorry Lindsey, but it just won’t,  _ and then Kurt collapses into Blaine’s arms, all floppy and head-hurting, and they don’t really say much after that. Just being together, looking out for each other, living in this tiny, stupid world… 

Kurt has obviously seen Cappuccino for Two many times now - Blaine did turn to him quite a few times when it came to interior design, and tried not to get offended when Kurt didn’t agree with the blue-ish colour he had painted the walls -  _ “It’s way too teal, Blaine!” _ \- he did end up being quite a big help when it came to choosing coffee-themed prints to add decoration. And what colour would work well with the walls to paint the front counter with. Blaine does appreciate him, opinionated on interior design and all. 

But now it’s different, now everything is finished - now there have been customers and a few spilt drinks (a little girl cried when her brother knocked over her strawberry milkshake because it was so  _ special _ and had edible glitter on it - Blaine had to make her another one otherwise he was sure his heart would be broken by the time he shut up shop for the day - her father was incredibly apologetic) and Blaine’s a little beside himself with the reality of actually  _ owning his own cafe,  _ and Kurt just looks incredibly proud of him. 

Later that night, Blaine finds that Kurt has set up a little candlelit dinner with a table cloth and everything - he managed to find the time in his crazy schedule to get ingredients to make spaghetti bolognese, and he even picked up a couple of roses on his way home to add to the table (he’s never been the one for cheesiness, but then again he is also a hopeless romantic) - a sort of congratulatory meal slash date, and after Blaine kisses him softly and takes him to bed, falling into each other and soft pillows. Everything just seems a little too perfect, but then, the next morning, Blaine has to get up at six AM to set up the shop, has to leave Kurt sleeping right there, all warm and toasty and soft, and laughs a little at how life is always just a little bittersweet. 

The days pass quickly, almost too fast with the excitement of it all. Tina and Quinn turn up some time through the week and Mike and Luke tag along too, and Tina just can’t get over how good the millionaire shortbread is; says she’ll have to come back very soon and buy the whole box, to which Blaine laughs and has to get back to making coffee. 

Then, at the end of the week, nearly closing time on a Friday afternoon, Rachel bustles in with mascara stained cheeks and hair stuck to her glossed lips, and Blaine looks up from where he’s been cleaning the tables, thinking how he really should hire another worker in here to help out - the days are getting a little tiring (and lonely, he must admit) - says, “Oh! Rachel! A-are you okay?” and suddenly Rachel’s bursting into tears hysterically, half trying to acknowledge how lovely Blaine’s new cafe is, half just sobbing. 

“Blaine…” She cries, “Yo-your cafe is… amazing…” and more sobbing peeps through. She takes a deep breath in and tries to hold her wailing before she moans, “But… Je… Jesse… he broke up… with me…” and on the last word there are tears cascading down her cheeks, and the sound is drawn out into a long, wailing sob like a crying child, and Blaine just stands there a little unsure, cloth still in hand and very taken aback when Rachel suddenly rushes towards him and starts crying into his shoulder, wetting his black shirt (he was going to have a uniform designed, but he’s the only one that works here; it seems a little unnecessary) and he pats her on the back soothingly.

Blaine is a caring person. He is. It’s just that as much as he (half) gets on with Rachel, he doesn’t know  _ that _ much about her, even though he does consider her as a friend. Normally, she’s just talking about her confusing college or the latest Broadway gossip; he never really sees her in tears like this; probably hasn’t ever seen her cry before. 

With Kurt, obviously, it’s easy, to comfort him; it’s natural to comfort Kurt, especially when he’s crying or sad or has had a particularly bad day. But with Rachel it’s… not. And now Rachel’s crying into his shoulder over her very recent break up with Jesse St James; it makes Blaine wonder how alone Rachel feels in this scary city, what with her crazy college and how everyone seems to be competing with each other there. But he just leaves it there, because he needs to focus on Rachel, who is still sobbing  _ hysterically  _ into his shoulder.

(Although, he will say: he’s not completely surprised that Jesse has broken up with Rachel - obviously Blaine never had a good feeling about him from the start. Honestly… good for Rachel. Stupid man who didn’t pay for his coffees every time he came into Janice’s Coffee because he had ‘connections’. Serves him right. He didn’t deserve Rachel anyway, as mad as she can be sometimes.)

“Oh, Rachel,” He finally murmurs, and Rachel takes a big sniff - Blaine can  _ feel  _ all the snot gathering on his shoulder, “how did that happen?”

Rachel gathers herself together, “Just a few hours ago… he said… he needed ‘space’ or something like that. To think. I don’t know… he… I guess I was a little delusional.” she says, wiping her eyes. 

Blaine smiles, thinking back to all the times when Jesse had been horrible to him or asked him all those personal questions that didn’t concern him at all, “Well,” he says, “maybe just a little.”

He makes her a free cup of coffee. He finds that lattes are always quite the comfort. 

(Blaine doesn’t make her a cappuccino; cappuccinos are always for Kurt.)

  
  
  


*

  
  


And that’s how the days continue. Six months later it’s all the same. Blaine runs his cafe, Kurt continues to work at Vogue. Blaine’s been incredibly proud of him recently; he has been trying to set up his own mini clothing line with the help of a few of his friends at work, and at the moment, Kurt thinks they might finally have something worth selling (they’re going to set up an Instagram account. It’s not something that Blaine’s completely familiar with, but Kurt does use it to show off his outfits from time to time, and one of his younger friends - Blaine’s pretty sure her name is Izzy, or Isabella, or something along those lines - had decided herself that she’d be in charge of ‘PR’ and around half an hour into their first meeting, an ‘account graphics concept’ had already been created - whatever that means). They just have to get the idea through insurance and a whole load of boring stuff Blaine doesn’t really understand (nor does he care to elaborate) and things will hopefully be running smoothly.

At night it’s calmer, Kurt laying on Blaine’s chest on the sofa and finishing off their carbonara that Blaine has realised, Kurt is actually a very good ‘carbonara chef’ (Blaine really still can’t believe this is his reality now) talking about how their days went, fingers playing lazily between them. And it’s calm. It’s soft. It’s nice.

They talk about how their days went, and normally (it is New York, of course) Blaine has a small selection of interesting stories and happenings that occurred at Cappuccino for Two, from bumping into old friends discovering the big apple for the first time, to angry mothers with their kids on the school run (Blaine is already very familiar with that - and it’s funny how it’s normally rich, entitled mothers who think they specifically  _ deserve _ this coffee at seven-thirty a.m on a Thursday morning, and two hot chocolates with cream for their kids, are the ones that make themselves known - he’s seen it all before when he worked at Janice’s; they’re normally the biggest downer to the start of a day - not that there were very many of them; Janice’s was, famously, pretty well hidden around the corner from that  _ stupid _ Starbucks - Blaine does sometimes think about how  _ lucky _ he was that Kurt decided to take a visit to the tiny, somewhat quaint, Janice’s Coffee instead of that money-grabbing chain - sure, their frappuccinos are delicious, but Blaine’s always preferred cafes with a  _ little  _ bit of originality), and Kurt will always listen with the same amount of piqued interest - eyebrows raising at the climaxes of Blaine’s stories, fingers gripping his mug of hot chocolate just that little bit tighter when Blaine can see how eager he is to know what happens next.

And Blaine listens to Kurt, too, when he’s talking about his day - how Kyle very nearly asked Lindsey from England out before Kurt left for lunch (he only just caught Kyle’s blubbering of ‘Hey… so… I know… well. You might not but. I’m taking a guess that you…  _ love _ food … _ No! _ Oh my— _ oh god  _ I don’t mean it in a  _ bad _ way… no… no that’s  _ completely _ not what I meant… I was just going to ask— actually don’t worry!’ because he was really just very nearly out the door - only adjusting his pea coat - and he heard the awkward talking when Kyle thought Kurt had finally left) but chickened out last minute after a rather bad wording of his proposal - Kurt actually acted out what he said and Blaine didn’t know whether to laugh until his stomach hurt, or just die out of second-hand embarrassment - and Blaine tries to hide his jealousy when Kurt talks about how  _ sweet _ Chandler is.

(He got himself a job in the same field as Kurt after his internship, ‘the lucky bitch’, is what Kurt said about it all, because he had to work extra hard to get his job at Vogue, his  _ dream job _ , and there Chandler is and suddenly he’s here forever - and Blaine asked, ‘I thought you liked Chandler?’ to which Kurt answered with, ‘Of course I like Chandler, it’s just that it’s my personality to bitch about people from time to time’, and Blaine laughed, wondered briefly if Kurt bitches about him, but didn’t question it any further. He just keeps on loving him). 

And yes, Kurt says it every time after he mentions Chandler - ‘but he’s not my type!’ - so much so now that Blaine knows when it’s coming and can practically say it at the same time as him, but there’s always a small part of him that’s obliged to feel a little bit jealous. Just like when Kurt gets moody when they watch  _ Four Weddings and a Funeral _ and all Blaine does is stare dreamily at young Hugh Grant - it’s the same balance when it’s all narrowed down, and Kurt has profusely stated how he could never do anything to hurt Blaine, and really, Chandler is  _ not  _ his type; he’s more into Hollywood dreamboats with dashing curls. 

Blaine has said it previously, but sometimes he does think about how very lucky he is. Janice’s was so hidden, and there was only a tiny chance that Kurt would’ve decided to walk in one day - that Starbucks really was just around the corner. He’d talked to Kurt about it, and Kurt smiled, just said, “Must have been fate.” but also didn’t add the fact that he  _ did  _ actually go into Starbucks that morning and it was particularly crowded. So, maybe half fate and half avoiding-chaotic-situations. 

And oh god, Janice’s Coffee. 

It seems so long ago now, since then, so long since Blaine’s life was just so perfectly rolled out ahead of him, and everything was just a little clouded but he was so set on that final dream, that coffee shop of a name he didn’t even know yet, just getting up every morning and going to his lectures then serving coffee after school hours, listening to Rachel’s lectures about Barbara Streisand and trying to conjure up the courage to talk to the pretty guy over at that table by the window reading  _ Vogue _ , always well dressed and slightly intimidating. 

Blaine was going to say that he was too naive, at first, but then when he really thinks about it, he realises he wasn’t at all. 

From the start, just after that fateful Christmas, he was dreading everything - Quinn’s wedding in particular - and how everyone, really  _ everyone _ seemed to be in relationships but him. 

And then Kurt came along and changed everything. And here he is now. 

Speaking of now: he’s managed to keep in pretty good touch with Rachel, not as much as he does with Quinn (Quinn is still his best friend; through everything - they’ll be best friends through thick and thin), but he does message her a few times every week or so, and sometimes she pops into Cappuccino for Two for a quick talk and a warm coffee, and Blaine’s always amazed at her success - she’s managed to find herself a place in one of New York’s most successful theatre companies, Fiasco Theatre, and landed the role as Little Red Riding Hood in their production of  _ Into the Woods _ , which, even though Blaine isn’t partial to, he did think she was great in it.

(The whole experience of going to see Rachel’s show that night with was probably enhanced by the fact that he and Kurt had sex when they made it home after, though. But nonetheless - a great performance from New York’s Rachel Berry.)

Kurt enjoyed the performance, and he has talked to Rachel quite a lot (Rachel was another striving force in helping him and Blaine get together, of course) and does get on with her pretty well, although he has made it thoroughly clear how much she can annoy him when she’s in one of  _ those _ moods (the moods when Rachel can be especially pedantic and righteous - no one enjoys them but Rachel herself) and it’s always quite satisfying to watch, Blaine thinks, when Kurt tells her what she’s actually trying to say; fully tells her  _ this is how it is, and you have to stop now.  _

So, yes. Blaine is very happy. And he sits here now, on Kurt’s velvet sofa (his pride) and cuddled up to his chest, Kurt holding a copy of Vogue in front of them, Blaine with a mug of his own signature cappuccino in hand. 

He does use the milk frother - Kurt doesn’t really understand it, nor does he understand how that tiny bit of milk can go from that amount to  _ that  _ so quickly, and Blaine doesn’t really either, just says, ‘It’s science’, as if that really means anything when it comes down to it, and adds the espresso to the cup (it’s fun making espresso at home - the flavour is just  _ better  _ somehow), pours the frothed milk in and adds some hot chocolate powder on top (always extra for Kurt, of course). 

But they sit here, and they read, and sometimes Kurt kisses Blaine’s hair because he can, and Blaine’s just those few inches shorter than him and everything just  _ works  _ this way, and both Blaine and Kurt think: they could do this forever)

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Twenty-third of December, or, as Blaine likes to identify this day as: two days until Christmas.

They’re on the train again, down to Blaine’s hometown in Philadelphia, and Kurt’s resting against his shoulder with the world passing fast outside, and they’re moving so quickly it’s like the train’s wheels are barely skimming the tracks; just floating through the clearing as winter trees turn into a blur through the windows.

Kurt’s hand is in his as he sleeps, fingers intertwined between them, and Blaine decides to just sit back for a moment rather than trying to get through some of more of his book, which he promptly rests on his knee. 

It’s crazy, so crazy, Blaine thinks, as the world passes swiftly next to them, how a couple of years ago he was on this same trip down to his mom’s, where he grew up, feeling nothing but painfully alone and just needing to see his dog and grandmother again, wondering what life would be like if he had a beau at his side. He imagined fingers playing with fingers and kisses into soft hair as they leaned against each other in a carriage, imagined exchanging presents at Christmas and cooking turkey together at lunch. But, as he’s here with Kurt now, asleep on his shoulder, soft calm breaths that are hardly coherent, he knows it’s so much more than that. 

Blaine thinks about the times when Kurt hurts so much for his mother, still, he doesn’t know how to get through it, and Blaine is there for him, keeping him grounded; the last hand holding him back from escaping reality; from falling off that cliff and never getting back up again. He knows how hard the grief still can be for Kurt, sometimes - especially on the day when his mom’s death is such a present thing, so close but so long ago, especially when he can’t be with his dad in person to feel the hurt they both feel together. Those days are hard. And Blaine is always there to hold him, to listen, to talk to him; he’ll do anything to make sure Kurt feels just a little bit better.

And Blaine also thinks about the happy times; times when they can’t stop themselves from laughing until their stomachs hurt; those times when they’re just lying together and staring into each other’s eyes (so blue, are Kurt’s eyes, always different shades of blues and greens mixing into one and changing in the light); times when Blaine feels like he could jump off the edge of a skyscraper and just keep floating in mid air; when he  _ and  _ Kurt feel like they’re both just floating in ecstasy. 

Outside still, the world keeps moving. 

They pass a few towns as they move, and Kurt is dreamily flying in and out of sleep, waking up at certain times as the window’s clear light reflects the sun into his eyes, and he wakes and mumbles words like, “How long left?” and it’s nearly incoherent, with his hand still clenched in Blaine’s, warming them. Blaine just whispers back softly, “We’re nearly there now.” and strokes his thumb comfortingly. Kurt doesn’t like journeys all that much.

The moment seems so perfect, Blaine feels like he should write poetry on it or something. 

He picks up the book from his lap again (the nausea from reading too long in a moving vehicle has worn off again, now) and skims back to the page he was on, resuming from where he left off. Yes, here it was - coincidentally, a poem about a train. He reads it again.

_ The book I’ve been reading _

_ rests on my knee. You sleep. _

_ It’s beautiful out there — _

_ fields, lakes and little winter trees _

_ in February sunlight _

_ every car park a shining mosaic. _

_ Long, radiant minutes,  _

_ your hand in my hand _

_ still warm, still warm. _

Blaine smiles as he looks back at his previous thought - that he should write poetry on this moment. He looks back down to Kurt lying on his shoulder, hand clasped in his, and looks back at the book again. 

He skims through a few of the other pages, comes across a rather amusing story of two men named Robert and Dave sharing an orange, and is then suddenly very hit by the words ‘I love you. I’m glad I exist’ as if they’ve made him feel wiser, with the knowledge that Kurt loves him, and for that, Blaine  _ is  _ glad he exists. He finds a few other interesting poems, too - ones about favourite poets and forgetting to buy flowers and hearts making their minds up. They’re all so simple - they make  _ sense  _ yet they make Blaine feel so much. He skips back to the previous poem about the train.

_ your hand in my hand _

_ still warm, still warm. _

It must be some sort of coincidence that this perfect ‘train’ poem has already been written for him. Although, he thinks, Wendy Cope has always been a little bit of a genius, as he sets  _ Two Cures For Love _ back down on his lap again and Kurt wakes, lifting his head off Blaine’s shoulder, Blaine turning to look at him and smiling again, Kurt stretching feebly. 

“Hey.” He says after his stretch, head leaning against the back of the seat and smiling at Blaine.

“Hey. Good nap?”   


Kurt hums quietly, links his hand back with Blaine’s. The warmth is still there, even in this cold December air, even with that cold sunlight outside. And they stay like that, for the last thirty minutes of the journey, Blaine reading some of Wendy’s poetry to Kurt, and Kurt reminding him of how a lot of it seems very related to  _ their _ story, talking about telephone books and being single at Christmas and lost souls hoping for someone to save them. 

The world keeps passing outside. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i saw this poem at the start of my writing process and i was just like 'wowzas this is the perfect poem for the ending because blaine has suddenly changed all his problems he had at the start' and yeah :))) i just thought it would be a good thing to close this story with!!


End file.
